MY LITTLE PART 



IN 



A BIG WAR 



BY 

Alvin S. Mela 

First Lieutenant, U. S. A. 



Copyright 1919 
Alvin S. Mela 



MY LITTLE PART 



IN 



A BIG WAR 



BY 



A L V I N S. Mela 

First Lieutenant, U. S. A. 



Copyright 1919 
Alvin S. Mela 






To 

My Mother and Sister, 

who have always understood me better 
than anyone else, and whom I have 
always admired for it as being able to 
do more than I can, I dedicate this book. 



M4r 25 1919 

^0 I 



\^- 



y 



FOREWORD 



, From a letter dated February 20th, 1018, written 
in Paris to my old and intimate friend, M. Leo 
Sipser, I quote the following: 

"So you think my letters would make interesting 
manuscripts? Well, all I can say is that if they 
were written in disappearing ink, they would have 
unlimited circulation in every blind man's home in 
the country ! Those are about the only places and 
under the only conditions wherein they might be ap- 
preciated. But thanks for the compliment just the 
same. Who ever heard of me as a man of letters !" 

I have not changed my opinion in the slightest 
degree, and I am compiling this narrative of my 
experiences and impressions to bolster my memory 
in future years — to keep me from forgetting the 
hardships and pleasures, the work and the play 
incidental to my stay in France as one of the Amer- 
ican Expeditionary Forces sent to that countr-y in 
the great World War of 1914-1918. 

The letters that follow were passed by the Ctensor 
in much the same form as they appear here. While 
gathering them together for this narrative, I have 
added dates, geographical locations, names of per- 
sons, and other details, which at the time of writ- 
ing were forbidden by the General Orders covering 
Mail Censorship. I have also expanded some notes 
from my diary. 

Alvin S. Mela. 



On March 25, 1917 — twelve days before America 
declared war on Germany — I went to Governor's 
Island, N. Y., with my brother Harry, for my first 
infantry drill. These drills were unofficial affairs 
fostered by Capt. A. L. Boyce, of "Boyce's Tio-ers'' 
fame. A few days later, I sent in my application 
for examination for the Officers' Reserve Corps, and 
was informed that I was to go before the Examin- 
ing Board on May 13th. This method of admission 
to the O. R. C. was changed in favor of the Training 
Camp Plan, and I Avas ordered to take a physical 
examination on April 25th. I passed this easily, 
and early in May received notification to report at 
the Officers' Training Camp at Plattsburg Bar- 
racks, N. Y., on May 15th. 

The three months that followed were ones of hard 
and serious but healthy work. I was successful to 
the extent of being commissioned a Second Lieu- 
tenant of Infantry on August 15th. I was in the 
Tenth Company of the Second Provisional Training- 
Regiment, and along with eight other men in the 
company was ordered to report to the Commanding- 
General at Hoboken, N. J., on August 29th for im- 
mediate service overseas, but no transportation Avas 
available until September 7th. 

Sept. 7th.— Although I reported at 9 A. M. to 
the U. S. S. ''Huroai ' ( formerly the "Kaiser Fried- 
erich der Grosse") at Pier No. 2, Hoboken, Ave did 
not finally get aAvay from the pier until six o'clock 
in the evening. All khaki-clad men were ordered 
below decks, so that in going down NeAV York Bay 
not a man was in sight except sailors on duty. We 
passed the Statute of Liberty in her flood of light, 
going to the country that gave us this remarkable 
symbol of Libei-ty, Equality and Fraternity. Our 



thono-hts naturally turned to wondering when we 
would see her again— if we ever would ! 

The convoy consisted of five other transports, a 
supply ship, two destroyers and the cruiser ''Hunt- 
ington/' 

I had a perfectly delightful trip and was not sea- 
sick a moment, nor did my stomach even feel queer 
at any time. I ate like a starved animal and slept 
like a log. Never felt better in all my life. Several 
of the days were rough, however, and ou two occa- 
sions only half of the officers showed up at meals. 

Submarines? Huh, I didn't see a sign of any 
of them, tho, as a precaution, no lights were 
permitted after dark, excepting the blue dead-lights 
below decks. We had to undress in total darkness. 
It was great work, stumbling around the unlit ship 
to find my stater ooan. 

Sept. 20th.— This marked our entry into the 
Port of St. Nazaire (Loire Inferieure), France. 
The day broke foggy and rainy, but cleared up 
toward late afternoon. We proceeded up to within 
four or five miles of the port, took on a pilot and 
then waited until 3 P. M. for the tide to change 
sufficiently to permit us to get in. We went through 
a tortuous channel in the mined zone off the port, 
and promptly at 5 o'clock the 23rd Regiment Band, 
which was with us on board, played the "Marseil- 
laise," as we entered the locks. What a wonderful 
greeting we got! You would think that we were 
home-coming conquerors, and not an expeditionary 
force just landing ! The quay was lined with men 
and beautiful French girls— many in black, it is 
true— anxious to cheer us, our country and theirs, 
and to tlirow us fruit and cigarettes. The shout- 



ing aud cheering made a baliel of sound I will re- 
member for many long years to come. 

Sept. 21st. — We were held on the ship until 4 
P. M. It was a long, dull, irksome wait, l)ut when 
we got off, we made up for lost time and motion. 
St. Nazaire is a quaint town to urban American 
eyesi. The streets, shops, cafes, people, wagons, in 
fact the very atmosphere is so different from what 
I have been brought up to regard as commonplace. 
I had my first meal on shore and returned to the 
ship at 9.15 P. M. 

The following humorous incident shows the dif- 
ficulty of conversing with the natives, many of 
them having a smattering of English. One of us 
tried to tell a girl that he had a friend in Texas. 
She interrupted with '*Oui, oui, monsieur, je com- 
prends; he run a taxee!" 

Sept. 23rd.— I fell in with Capt. Halloran of 
"A" Co., 23rd Infantry, and we spent the day to- 
gether. I did not return to the ship, but bedded 
down for the night in the officers' quarters of the 
23rd Regiment. The Oaptain loaned me his can- 
vas bedding roll which I spread on the floor. A 
Lieutenant gave me a blanket to serve as a mat- 
tress, and another Captain loaned me a pair of 
blankets to cover myself. Thus I spent my first 
night on French soil, and I slept soundly too. I 
had slept on board ship the previous nights. 

Sept. 25th. — I received orders directing me to 
go, in company with nineteen others^ to the Fourth 
British Army Sniping, Observation and Scouting 
School at Bouchon (Somme). 



Sept. 2Gth.— We left for* Boiiclion, arrivini»- the 
following inoriiiii«j;-, after an all day and niiiht ride. 

At the school we were informed that we had not 
been expected until the 30th and that we could have 
passes to go to Paris or Amiens until 8 o'clock that 
morning. I chose Paris. 

Sept. 27th-30tit.— My first stay in Paris was 
naturally of great interest, but, as I spent so much 
time there later, I shall omit all details of this short 
visit. 

Letter, Bouchon, Oct. 2nd.— I am billeted, 
along with 1st Lieut. Wm. H. McLaughlin, with the 
village schoolmaster. We have a large room, very 
clean and airy, and as far as the accommodations 
are conceraed, one could hardly expect more in any 
small town anywheres. We try to talk with the 
schoolmaster and his wife. We find it is difficult, 
but manage to make ourselves understood (at 
times) with the aid of a French-English, English- 
French dictionary and plenty of sign language. 

The kindness of the rural French folk toward the 
Americans is illustrated by the old schoolmaster 
and his wife waiting up until 11 o'clock to give us 
hot coffee on two cold and rainy nights, when we 
w^re on outdoor exercises. 

Letter, Chaumont (Hte. Marne), Oct. 18th.^ 
I left Boucheon yesterday, and am spending the 
night at American Headquarters. We had a miser- 
ably slow trip here, lasting twenty-five hours, and 
arrived in a mor-e or less disreputable condition. 
With due respect to French passenger trains, I now 
have a wholesome regard for an American way 
freight on a backwoods jerkwater railr-oad! Sleep- 
ing cars to Americans in France are onlv a mem- 



6 



ory of the States, and the best we cau do is to bed 
down for the night as comfortably as we can while 
reclining in our seats. At that, yon can judge how 
much better off we are tlian the poor chaps who 
haye to ride in box cars. Of what is in store for 
us, I haye not the slightest idea, and since joining 
the army, I haye come to realize the futility of try- 
ing to foretell just what to expect. 

The course at the school at Bouchon was one of 
unusual and yaried interest, and all of us thoroly 
enjoyed it. Compared to Training Camp, the 
work was very light, inasmuch as we only worked 
about seyeu hours a day, tho some days we put 
in somewhat more. 

Since my last letter, I haye spent two enjoyable 
Ayeek-ends in Paris, and the more I see of that city 
the better I like it. I had hoped to get there again 
before coming here, but my orders preyented my 
doing so, and probabh' it is just as well. 

Letter, Demange-aux-Eau (Meuse), Oct. 21st. 
— At last I haye reached the end of my travels, at 
least for the time being. I am now billeted in this 
small town, with the 16th Regular Infantry, and 
have been attached to Company "I" fo-r duty. 

The original party at the British Sniping School 
has been split up, only five of us coming here. Mc- 
Laughlin is one of them. 

Letter, Oct. 25th. — Since reporting here for 
duty, I have had more new situations to face and 
avercome than one could imagine. Last Sunday I 
took my platoon a little ways out of town on a 
twenty-four hour outguard, which went thru 
without incident. Then on Thursday, I acted as 
range officer while the men went thru target 
practice, and the culmination of the week of sur- 



prises was being ordered by the Conimanding- Offi- 
cer to defend a private before a Special Court Mar- 
tial ! I know I am not quite as good as John B. 
Stanchtield, as mv man got the limit, but I really 
believe he deserved it. All he did was to disobey 
his corporal, call him vile names and wind up by 
assaulting him. But I did the best for him that 
I could. 

Letter, Oct. 25tii, to P. A. Dillon. — I am 
"somewhere in France'' all right, in the midst of 
the rain and mud, tho at this particular moment 
the sun is making a valiant effort to assert itself. 
Mud, mud, mud — slimy, sticky, slippery, sloppy 
ooze — it's awful ! I have never seen anything in 
the States that even nearly approaches it for sheer 
disagreeableness, but it is no worse for me than it 
is for thousands and thousands of others, so I am 
complaining no more than my share. The rain and 
mud, both of which are almost continuous, make 
work almost unbearable that at most times would 
not be so bad at all. And this is the country that 
we will have to fight in ! The people back in the 
States have no conception of what we are putting 
up with, and I hope someone will start a campaign 
of enlightenment that will wake up the American 
nation. 

Letter, Oct. 25th, to M. L. Sipser. — In passing, 
permit me to pay a glowing tribute to the women 
of Paris in the following selected and carefully 
chosen words: #-l?;i4yo%/%*@(g(2!! It is a 
wonderful spot, and in all your long and varied ex- 
perience on the road, you have never, never seen 
anything like it. — Now, as to the city by day. Well, 
the fact is I did not see enough of it when artificial 
light was unnecessary to make any very definite 



statement, but after reading seyeral guide (?) 
books, I agree with Baedecker in all that he says 

Oct. 2Tth. — I spent the week-end in Nancy 
(Meurthe-et-Moselle), and among other things got 
a much-needed hot bath. This is worthy of note, 
as they are luxuries in rural France in peace times, 
and almost unknown since the summer of 1914. 

Letter, ^oy. 6th. — To-day is Election Day, but 
I beat the home folks to it this year l)y voting on 
Saturday last. The election jol> business follows 
me around the world, so I acted as Chairman of 
the Board of Inspectors for the "IGth Kegiment of 
Infantry, at present in France." You know that 
the new Election Law provides for New York State 
voters on military service outside of the State be- 
ing given an opportunity to vote, and quite natu- 
rally I would not overlook the chance. 

Talk about coincidences, listen to this one ! 
Scene : The room occupied by 1st Lieut. William 
A. Dashiell, M. O. R. C. (Surgeon of the 3rd Bat- 
talion). Time: 8 P. ^I. I said I am anxious to 
return to the States if only to go back to the High 
School of Commerce in uniform to show them that 
I was doing something, whereupon the medico asked 
me when I had graduated. I told him I had been 
a member of the February 1907 Class, and he an- 
swered that he had been in the June 1907 Class 
from the same school! We naturally got to chin- 
ning, and I soon remembered that I had known liim 
well in school, and that he had known me. After 
graduating from school in 1907, he moved to Little 
Rock, Ark., studied and later practiced medicine, 
then married and had a family, but felt the call of 
duty, and joined the ^[edical Officers' Reserve 



9 



Corps. And here he is, somewhere in France, eat- 
ing at the same mess with me ! 

As to my health, I am a little ont of hick at last. 
My famous ^'Baseball Knee" (the left one) has 
gone back on me a trifle, and at present it is bonnd 
up with adhesive tape to support the ligaments. 
Dashiell calls it "a slight arthritis," which, trans- 
lated into the language that one does not have to 
pay for to hear, simply means "most unpleasant and 
annoying." But it is nothing to worry about, for 
I went to business many a day with that knee feel- 
ing just as bad as it does now, and sometimes worse. 
Otherwise I am feeling just tine. 

Nov. 7th. — I was selected by my Company Com- 
mander last night to go up to the line two days in 
advance of the Company, and consequently left 
Demange-aux-Eau Wednesday morning, November 
7tli, accompanied by two Sergeants, Trower and 
Simmons, from my Company. After an all-day 
motor ride, we arrived at Bathelemont (Meurthe- 
et-Moselle), a small, almost deserted and much 
shot-up hamlet about three kilometers back of the 
front line, where we found billets for ourselves in 
deserted houses. 

My bedding roll, stripped down to bare necessi- 
ties, was all the baggage I took witli me, in addi- 
tion to the full pack which I wore. The appearance 
I presented when loaded down with full war regalia 
must have been rather funny, for, in addition to 
the pack, I had my despatch case, field glasses, 
French gas mask and English gas mask slung over 
my shoulder-s, while on my belt were the regulation 
trappings. I was draped like a Christmas tree! 

I made myself as conifortal)le as possible in this 
deserted house for the night, but about half-past 
two in the morninu I was rudelv aAvakened bv a 



10 



most iineartlilY explosion, being almost thrown out 
of my bunk. It was the bursting of a Bo-che 105- 
mm. shell about two yards in front of the doorway 
of the house, and about fifteen yards from where 
I was peacefully sleeping. I did some real honest 
Yankee cussing, and decided that an investigation 
of the shell hole could wait until there was more 
light, so I went to sleep again. Upon coming out 
of the house in the morning, I had to make a wide 
semi-circular detour to avoid the hole. A remark- 
able thing about the explosion was that it did not 
break a single pane of the glass that still remained 
in the windows of the house in which I had been 
sleeping, tho there was plenty of broken glass in 
windows of neighboring houses. 

Nov. 8tii. — About 9 o'clock on Thursday morn- 
ing, I left for the front line with the Sergeants and 
a guide, for my first look at real trenches. After 
wandering thru the maze of trenches for a couple 
of hours, we started on our way towards the 
kitchen of the Company that was occupying this 
sector — ^'F" Company of our Regiment. It was at 
11.30 A. M. when I got under shell fire for the first 
time in my life. There was nothing for me tO' do 
but to drop to the bottom of the trench just as hard 
and fast as I could, and I ''stood not upon the order 
of my going." I broke all records for rapid fall- 
ing! When I mentioned this little incident to one 
of the officers of "F" Company, all I got was a laugh 
and this pleasant bit of advice : "Yau ought not to 
be such a darn fool as to be in a communicating 
trench at chow time!" But none of the shells fell 
any nearer than to throw a little mud on me. We 
remained for the balance of the day, circulating 
about the first line and support trenches, and just 



11 



about dnsk returned to Bathelemont, again con- 
ducted hj a guide. 

Nov. 9th. — Friday was quiet until after dark, 
when my Battalion arrived, and tlien it was my 
job to see that my Cbmpany was billeted properly 
and promptly, according to information and in- 
structions I had received earlier in the day. 

I received my first mail from the States, ten let- 
ters being brought to me from Demauge by Sgt. 
Beaver, and there in Bathelemont, by the light of 
a dismal candle, in a tumbled-down house, three 
kilometers from the front line, I read the first let- 
ters from home. I was a happy boy then — can you 
doubt it? 

Nov. 10th. — Saturday was spent in resting and 
inspection of equipment, and after dark the Bat- 
talion went up to the line, each platoon being led 
by a French guide. The distance was only three 
kilometers, but it proved to be hard going, being 
loaded down like pack-mules. We got there with- 
out incident, and then my platoon, being the reserve 
platoon, unloaded the supplies and ammunition, 
and distributed both. We had to provide the kitch- 
en police details, the kitchen being under my 
charge. We worked like beavers until 3 o'clock 
Sunday morning. The mud bothered us greatly, 
the wagons getting stuck at a considerable distance 
from where we wanted them. The men at first 
seemed inclined to fight shy of the mud, so I just 
waded into it (or rather sank into it), and then 
they followed me quite willingly. There v^as. no 
more trouble on that score again ; that was the first 
and the last of it. Good Lord, but it was hard 
work, and I am thankful that Fritz let us alone 
while we were doing it. I was almost covered from 



12 

liead to foot with mud, and ^Yhen the job was fin- 
ished I was tired — and sadly in need of a manicnie. 

Nov. 12Tn. — On this niglit I took out my first 
patrol. It consisted of twenty-three non-commis- 
sioned officers and men. We went oyer the top and 
thru our wire at 6.30 P. M., it Ijeing absolutely dark 
then, and returned about 11 P. M. I had 2nd Lieut. 
Galbreth of the reserve company with me. He had 
asked his and my company commanders for permis- 
sion to accompany the patrol, which of course, re- 
gardless of seniority, left me in command. We had 
illuminated compasses, and he led the way back, 
getting- off his course al)Out five degrees. I remained 
Avith the automatic rifles with the rear guard, and 
while I knew that we were shifting direction, there 
was nothing I could do in that intense darkness 
but to keep on going, and ^^'llen we hit something, 
to make the necessary corrections in direction in 
order to get back. We hit something soon enough 
in the form of one of our machine guns, and the 
gunner was not asleep on post either. He heard us 
coming up to our wire, and opened fire on us. We 
hit the ground again ! I passed the word along to 
the men to slide down the hill backwards on their 
bellies, until we reached a spot where I knew there 
was some dead ground. Then we had a real cute 
council-of-war right out in No Man's Land. I 
naturally first took the precaution of putting the 
automatic rifles out a few yards towards the Ger- 
man lines for protection against surprise. The 
Lieutenant and my two Sergeants tried to make me 
believe that we had gone too far to the left, and 
that we should turn toward the right, but I insisted 
that we were about two hundred yards too far to 
the right as it was. Being in command, I had my 
way, and we shifted sharply to the left, finally get- 



13 



ting back to the exact point from wliicli we started, 
as a patrol is supposed to do. We were out as a 
combat patrol, but found nothing to combat. All 
we got waSi cold and stiff. Lying out on the cold 
ground at full length for about four and a half 
hours with very little movement does not keep the 
body very warm, I can assui'e you. 

Nov. 15TII. — I went out on another patrol of 
twenty men, accompanied by the battalion intelli- 
gence officer, Lieut. Youngs. We remained out 
about the same length of time, were out for the 
same purpose, and had no excitement whatever. 
This time I saw two Fritzies silhouetted against 
the light of a flare, but being only two, let them 
alone; we were out after bigger game than two. 
We had no trouble getting back as oii the other oc- 
casion. Lieut. Youngs had been out quite a num- 
ber of times, and had a most excellent sense of 
direction. He guided coming back, and the way 
he seemed to sense his way in the pitch-black night 
was indeed a work of art. 

No doubt you are wondering just what were my 
sensations the first time I went over. I will admit 
quite freely that if I had not had twenty-three men 
waiting for me to show the way, I don't believe I 
ever would have been able to lift my leg over the 
parapet. My heart seemed to be bulging out of 
my mouth and my nerves were all atingle, but just 
as soon as Ave were outside of our wire, I began to 
feel quite comfortable and at ease. At the moment 
of going over, I realized that if I did not go, I 
would be ruined forever, even if an account of it 
never reached the States, so I screwed up sufficient 
will power to make the necessary physical effort. 
Somehow or other, I believe that every one of us 
felt ]nore or less the same way, but it was up to 



me to shoAV the way. I could not follow anyone 
else; by all the rules and practices of military 
science, I had to lead. 

Nov. ITtii. — In the small horns of the morning 
we had a nice scare, altho it caused a good laugh 
afterwards. My platoon was ordered to reinforce 
the first platoon, and I was directed to take com- 
mand of the second platoon sector, while the leader 
of that platoon was out on a patrol. Fritz started 
to shell the first platoon sector on my right, some 
of the shells dropping in my sector also. I awak- 
ened the Sergeant, who was off duty at the time,, 
and Avith the twO' Sergeants started to make an in- 
vestigation of the show\ One of the Sergeants, a 
man who had seen active service in IMexico, jumped 
up on the parapet to get a look around, and he 
called to me in a hoarse whisper: "Come up here. 
Lieutenant, and take a look at that!" I got up, 
and he pointed out something most suspicious on 
the sky-line, just faintly showing in the darkness. 
We could see, or thought we could, a row of Boches 
in a quarter that would have meant a last prayer 
for all of us. I ordered the other Sergeant to send 
up an illuminating flare, while we got our bodies 
off the sky-line. Then the laugh came — it was a 
row of fence posts, artistically draped with masses 
of barbed ^ire, that, in the dark, fashioned them- 
selves into most realistic Fritzies! I felt a little 
relieved, but to make sure I had another flare sent 
up. The phantom Dutchmen showed up in our 
rear, so I felt that I could not afford to take even 
the slightest chance. 

I had a good' practical joke played on me while 
in the line, and the instigator was my Captain. It 
was just noon, and I was asleep, having turned in 



only a few lioiiis l)efore after a busy night. I was 
awakened by someone sticking his head into my 
dngont. The head was encased in a gas mask, and 
the first thing I realized was a voice calling in ex- 
cited tones, "Wake np, Mela, r/os, gas!" I sat bolt 
upright, held my breath, and stretched my hand in- 
stinctively toward where my gas mask always was 
while I slept. But it wasn't there ! I took a quick 
look around and discovered it in quite another 
place, reached for it, and put it on in a hurry. 
About thirty seconds after that, someone came in 
and told me that there was no gas, and that it was 
all a joke. But I had recognized the voice that had 
done the calling — it was another one of the Lieu- 
tenants. The joke was on me just the same, so I 
squared accounts by buying the wine for our offi- 
cers' mess when we got back to Demange. 

I have a little souvenir that I picked up in No 
Man's Land in the shape of German telephone or 
telegraph wire. We picked it up and cut it on my 
first patrol. It was stretched across from the Boche 
trenches, and was used to tap our telephone circuit 
to the rear. 

I went up to the line with my knee in bad shape, 
but in a few days it disappeared entirely. It looks 
as tho Dashiell, who suggested that I be put on 
light duty, did not know what was good for me, or 
perhaps his idea of light duty was life in the 
trenches ! 

Let me say a word concerning the morale of the 
men. It ivas excellent in every iciuj. I put that in 
italics to emphasize it to the utmost degree. You 
must realize that the work is the hardest of the 
hard, the hours long, the eternal watchfulness most 
trying on the nerves, and at times it is not possible 
to feed just as you would like to. The mud wasi 
everywhere, our feet were more often wet than (Xvj, 



IG 



only some of us being fortunate enough to have 
rubber- boots, and when we wore them, we slipped 
more than we walked. The weather was very cool, 
and the long fourteen-hour nights were raw and 
chilling to the very bone. The sleeping quarters 
were for the most part bad, tho I was lucky in 
having the best dugout in the entire Company sec- 
tor. I shared it with a Machine Gun Company 
Lieutenant (a West Pointer) and a French Ma- 
chine Gun Lieutenant. It was fairly dry, and the 
bunks were elevated off the floor. But most of the 
dugouts were wet, water seeping thru the roof all 
the time, and all of them were damp. In spite of 
all these and many more discomforts, the morale 
of the men was excellent. For instance, once, after 
the men had done about twenty hours straight, I 
asked for volunteers to do a certain job, not danger- 
ous but just plain hard work, and practically the 
entire platoon stepped forward. Yes, the soldiers: 
acted like MEN, never complaining and always will- 
ing to obey the most insignificant order. Their par- 
ticular delight was to be selected to go out on a 
patrol. You would then see them for an hour or 
more, oiling their rifles to make sure that they 
would work properly, blackening their bayonets 
most carefully, examining the hand grenades to 
make certain that they were not defective, all the 
^^•llile keeping up a running fire of good-natured 
banter ^^ith those who could not go. It was a 
pleasure to share the hardships with men like that I 
And I have not the slightest doubt but what my ex- 
perience in this regard is just the same as that of 
every other American officer. 

The food was very fair. We only ate twice a 
day, but both mealsi were substantial, and we had 
hot coffee at midnight, which was served to the men 
on guard without their leaving their posts. Mid- 



r 



niglit coffee under trench conditions is a necessary 
stimulant, and if it bad not been for that, I don't 
know how the men could have got along until morn- 
ing. If the coffee was not hot (had cooled off while 
being brought to them), they would drink it just 
the same without the least word of complaint. That 
is the kind of spirit that is going to accomplish 
much in this war ! 

Walking about those trenches in the dark is a 
harder proposition than a promenade along the 
Gay White Way. It is a wonder that I did not, on 
more than one occasion, skin the bridge of my nose. 
The way that I used to bump into traverses was 
almost comical. I would come out of a dugout to 
make a tour of inspection, and of course my eyes 
would not be accustomed to the dark^^light blind- 
ness" they call it. Before I could really see things, 
I was pretty sure to be stopped short by some very 
well-meaning and necessary traverse. The trench 
bottoms were in miserable condition for the most 
part, tho I had my entire platoon out one night 
laying duck-walks to improve this. All repair and 
maintenance work had to be done at night, making 
it a very slow and difficult job. 

I have not yet made mention of the rats. I never 
in all my life heard such a variety of squealing and 
screeching as those pesky little rodents indulged in 
every night. They seemed to be everywhere, tho 
I did not see or feel many of them myself. I have 
heard many fantastic tales from the men, such as 
waking up and feeling one or more crawling over 
their faces and bodies, but I personally was spared 
this. 

The only other animals I saw were cats. They 
were small, with round bodies and short, stubby, 
pointed tails. All shades known in cat-dom were 
Tepresented. They were friendly little animals. 



18 



strange as it may seem, and once or twice one 
crawled up on my bnnk with me when I turned in 
for a little sleep. And I did not chase it away, 
either. 

In the matter of casualties, the Company was 
most fortunate. Altho "F" Company, which we re- 
lieved, had lost about twenty five in killed, wounded 
and prisoners — about one-sixth of its strength — we 
only had one killed and four wounded, none of the 
latter seriously. Ours was the luckiest Company 
of the luckiest Regiment of the Division, and my 
platoon was the luckiest platoon in the Company, 
as there was not a single casualty. 

Nov. 18th. — We received the necessary order to 
leave the trenches, and shortly after dark my pla- 
toon set out. AVe were a tired outfit. It was a 
particularly black night, and when we reached bat- 
talion headquarters, I asked the Major to assign a 
guide to my platoon to make sure that we did not 
lose our way. The men were not in condition to 
wander all over the scenery in search of the way 
out, and I preferred not taking any chances on my 
knowing or losing the way. The Major supplied 
the guide, and it took us just one hour and a quar- 
ter to cover the three kilometers ! We slipped and 
slid, avoided one water-filled shell hole only to over- 
look another, all the time strung out in single file. 
The other platoon leaders did not think of getting 
guidef^, and as a consequence strolled in even more 
mud spattered than we were, about two hours after 
we had reached Bathelemont. My men were asleep 
befoi'e the others came in. 

That night I spread my bedding roll on the floor 
of a deserted house at about midnight, and at 3 
A. ]\r. I was up, got a hurried breakfast, took a 
snack of food to eat at noon, and set out in the 



19 



dark, to a point about five or six miles to the rear, 
where motor trucks met us to take us back to De- 
mange. We arrived there along towards evening, 
had supper and turned in. Yes, I was tired, and 
slept long and peacefully that night, knowing that 
there was to be no reveille the following morning. 

While in the trenches, my hours of labor were 
peculiar. It is shorter to mention my hours of 
sleep, as I usually slept from 8.30 or 9 A. M. until 
noon or 1 P. M. Tho this is not very much sleep 
for a stretch of ten days, the nervous tension of the 
work and the excitement were ample to keep me 
going in excellent shape. 

Then came the job of cleaning up and taking a 
bath. What a blessing that bath was! I was a 
pretty dirty specimen, and it meant a lot of hard 
scrubbing to make me feel fairly clean. The men 
of our Company were pretty lucky in the matter of 
fleas and lice, only a very small percentage of them 
being afflicted with the pests. Personally, I es- 
caped, but not because I had any better treatment 
than the men. Better luck, that's all. 

Letter, Xov. 21st. — Mother dear, I am sorry 
that you were so uneasy because of not receiving 
a letter from me for a period of a few days. I try 
to write twice a week, but this is not possible at all 
times. I am doing my best, but mail service is dif- 
ferent now than in peace times, and you must try 
not to worry. Don't forget that the first letter I 
received reached me nine w^eeks after leaving the 
States, and that is far worse than you have had to 
bear, even tho less can happen to you than to me. 
Should anything serious befall me, you will learn 
of it fast enough, never fear, so Mother, don't worrj^ 
and fret any more than you have to. 



20 



Letter, Nov. 28th. — We have had two very hard, 
long- dajs of drill in miserable weather and worse 
marching- conditions. Tnesday it was snowing and 
raining, tho to-day it was only raining, but to make 
np for the lack of s^now, our slnm wagon did not 
reach us, so we had to go lunchless and coffeeless 
from breakfast to supper — eleven hours ! 

We use olive oil or mutton tallow on the feet, and 
I think that is what is keeping colds and pneumonia 
from getting the best of us. I use olive oil freely. 
It makes the feet smell (or rather stink), but it is 
an excellent preventive. 

Below is a copy of the menu of our Thanksgiving 
Dinner, which pro-ves the difficulties of feeding an 
army in France. The only deviation was that fresh 
goose was substituted for cold-storage turkey, which 
was not so unwelcome a change at that. It was an 
excellent meal, but of course I overate, and felt 
sorry for it afterwards. 

COMPANY "I", 16th infantry 
SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 

THANKSGIVING DINNER, 

Nov. 29th, 1917. 

MENU 
Pickled Ouioiis Pickled Beets Olives 

Lobster Salad, Mayonnaise Dressing 
Roast Turkey, Cranberry Sauce 
Chestnut Dressing, Giblet Gravy 
Creamed Irish Potatoes Cheese Straws Canxdied Sweet? 

Stewed Corn Green Peas String Beans 

English Plum Pudding, Hard & Brandy Sauce 
Waldorf Salad 
Gold Cake Silver Cake Marble Cake- 

Ornamented Fruit Cake 
Peaches Apples Pears 

Assorted Nuts Raisins 

Cheese 
Roman Punch 
Cafe Noire 



21 



Letter, Bovee (Meuse), Dec. 2nd. — I'm like 
Clarence the Cop ! Transferred again ! The cable- 
gram I sent to Harry yesterday probably proved 
rather interesting. I am now in the 165th Infantry, 
which as you will remember is the old GOth N. G. 
N. Y., one of the regiuients of the 42nd ('^Rain- 
bow") Division. I got my travel orders at 4 
o'clock Friday afternoon, November 30th, directing 
me to leave on Saturday morning at 8.80 for my 
present station. And here I am, tho at present I 
have not been attached to any particular company. 
That will take place to-morrow, without a doubt. 

I got here from Demange by motor truck, spend- 
ing last night in Vaucouleurs (Meuse), which is 
Division Headquarters. 

Demange is a metropolis compared to Bovee. At 
Demange we were on a railroad, whereas here we 
are eight kilometers from the nearest depot, which, 
by the way, is about as noticeable as a telegraph 
pole. The inhabitants of this place number just 
250 ! It consists of two streets, a church on one 
and a cafe on the other, with a few houses and barns 
in between. Bovee cannot be mistaken for 42nd 
Street and Broadway during the theatre rush. Oh, 
it's a grand game, this ! 

I must say good night in order to beat my lone 
candle, which threatens to play the stellar role in 
^'The Light That Failed." 

Letter, Dec. 3rd. — I have a fireplace in my room, 
and by using concentrated imagination, I make 
myself think that I am warmer. I guess the sight 
of the fire has its effect. 

I have been attached to "D^' Company. 

Letter, Dec. 5th. — You will no doul)t be glad to 
learn that I have just asked my landlady — all in 



22 



Freneli, of course — to call me at 6 o'clock each 
moi-uing or five or ten minutes before, aud to direct 
my striker to someone who could do my laundry for 
me, inasmuch as she herself did no work of that 
kind. I am just beginning- to get acquainted with 
this benighted language, and I don't think I could 
ever have learned it in the States. Anyone learn- 
ing it outside of France is surely to be congratu- 
lated on his mastery of the language o-f Joan of 
Arc, who made this part of France famous. Par- 
don, I should have said Jeanne d'Arc, n'est-ce pas? 

I have solved the mystery of my dyspeptic fire- 
place, and altho the wood is very wet and green^ 
I am managing to get a comfortable amount of heat 
out of it. I still must keep close to it, for other- 
wise I could only see the heat without feeling it. 

The country hereabouts is really beautiful, and 
I can understand now why all Americans do not 
believe in the "See America First'' doctrine. This 
section must furnish many a charming view to tour- 
ists during peace-time summers. But now it is war- 
time and winter, and altho there are no signs of 
w^ar here except the soldiers in town and the ab- 
sence of male natives of army age, still we are close 
enough, when the wind is right, to hear the roar of 
the Allied artillery in the St. Mihiel sector. That 
noise robs the scene of its beauty. 

Letter, Dec. 9tii. — Dennis is an Irish Jewel T 
But, of course, you don't know who Dennis is. Well, 
Dennis is my striker. I have dry wood, hence a 
good hot fire. Dennis got it. There is ouly one 
place where Avood of that nature can be obtained. 
It doesn't grow that way. I didn't see Dennis get 
it, but it's here. So I suppose some "frog- eater"' 
will be Jabbering at a mile-a-minute (as is their 
wont) to the Adjutant that someone has stolen his. 



23 



barn door! At that, I don't really know where it 
came from, for I ask no qnestions on some matters. 
Isn't it funny how phlegmatic a man can become? 
These little French villages are funny when seen 
thru city-bred American eyes. Bovee is evidently 
four or five hundred years old, and to-day is living 
up to its age. Each house has two entrances, one 
an ordinary door, and immediately alongside of it 
a barn door. A thin partition is usually all that 
separates the pigs from their owner, and in many 
cases the partition is very necessary for the distinc- 
tion to be obvious. The pigs mingle freely with the 
cows, horses, babies, chickens, dogs, grandmothers, 
house cats and other cats, mice and sheep ! All 
seem to get on wonderfully and thrive on the close 
association. I dare say it is a gift to live that way, 
but I would much prefer my own (or rather for- 
mer) style of living. I am happy that my billet is 
an exception. The live stock is not present in the 
flesh or in the nostrils. I have heard some officers 
remark how delightful it was "to go to sleep with 
the aroma of the cow and to wake up with the ditto 
of the sheep," the wind having shifted a few de- 
grees during the night. The towns are quaint and 
the country itself is really pretty, but, as one bright 
soul remarked, he did not see why the U. S. was 
fighting for a rock pile ! There are plenty of rocks 
around here, and most of the fields abound in them. 
They are small — just small enough to make walk- 
ing a severe trial. 

Dec. 12th. — We started to make a change of sta- 
tion, the orders being that we were tO' walk. We 
were informed that the entire distance is about 
seventy-five miles and that we would make it in 
six days of walking. The first day we nmrched to 
Gerauvillers (Meuse), where we spent the night, 



24 

and the following: day we reached Grand (Vosges). 
The walking conditions were fair, with the air cool, 
and the roads for the most part being free of snow 
and ice. It was hard going for the company wagon, 
however, which was unfortunate for the men, as it 
meant late supper. We got nothing to eat at noon, 
there being no long halt and no facilities for eating. 

Letter, Grand, Dec. 15th. — This is a somewhat 
larger town than most of the others I have been in. 
I am billeted with most delightful French folks who 
cannot do enough for the Americans, perhaps be- 
cause we are the first to be quartered here. After 
marching about fifteen miles on Thursday, when 
we arrived here I had to go Officer of the Day. I 
had the town presented to me, with no information 
except something like this: "Here's the town — post 
it !" I finally got to bed at 3.15 A. M. Friday, only 
to get up at 5.45. At C o'clock Friday evening I 
was relieved, and that I was dead tired you may be 
sure. I remained in bed until 9.30 this morning, 
took a hot bath, thanks to the combined efforts of 
my striker and my landlady, and then felt much 
refreshed. 

I am charmed with the friendliness and hospital- 
ity of the French folk in this section. They do 
everything in their power to make us comfortable 
and "at home," and that goes a long ways toward 
making up for many of the petty annoyances of 
this life. Every wish — however expressed — is com- 
plied with to the last degree, and is greatly appre- 
ciated. I almost feel as tho I am going home when 
I return to my billet after the day's drill is over. 

Letter, Dec. 19th. — Of all the funny notices I 
have ever seen, there is one here that holds the rec- 
ord. The town barber is in the French Army, and 



25 



of course away from home. His wife has become 
so tired of explaining' to the doughboys that there 
is no one Avho can give them a hair cut or a shave, 
that she asked the battalion interpreter to write 
out a sign to be placed in the window, so everyone 
co'uld see that the shop was not open for business. 
The sign reads: "The barber has gone to the war 
and will not return." Not much optimism dis- 
played in that sign, is there? 

Letter, Dec. 25th. — Merry Christmas! I hope 
you have one, tho for me to-day is much the same 
as any other day with the exception that we have 
no work to do. 

Last evening some of the Sergeants fixed up a 
Christmas tree, using streamers of cut paper in lieu 
of tinsel, and cartridge shells in place of little 
trinkets. All the company oflflcers were invited and 
asked to make a speech, tell a story or sing a song. 
I made a speech and spun a few dialect yarns. The 
fun lasted about two hours and was rather enjoy- 
able. The men seem happy, altho their folks and 
friends are so far away, and I am joining them in 
that spirit. It is the only way to do under the cir- 
cumstances. 

Many Christmas boxes came in last evening, but 
I am not disappointed that mine have not reached 
me, which no doubt is due to my continual chang- 
ing of station. 

Christmas Eve, I was Officer of the Day again, 
and while theie was no excitement of any kind, I 
saw one of the prettiest sights that I have ever be- 
held. Shortly before the men began to go to the 
village church, where the Regimental Cha])lain, 
Father Duffy, celebrated Midnight Mass, it began 
to snow — soft, quiet and large flakes — and the 
ground began to cover immediately. The churcli 



2G 

itself is an old strnetiirc, perhaps eight or nine 
hundred years old, ornamented with magnificent 
stained glass windows. It was not a very dark 
night l)y any means. Imagine, therefore, the fall- 
ing snow, the outline of the church against the half- 
bright sky, the light streaming thru the stained 
glass windows of the church, the ground covered 
white, and the men in khaki and the villagers all 
converging toward the massive carved main door of 
the church ! It was a scene such as one reads about 
in stoi-ies, but seldom has the good fortune to see. 
It was an ideal Christmas picture. 

Dec. 25x11. — The mess sergeant prepared a very 
creditable Christmas Dinner for the Company, in 
which the officers shared. The dinner itself was 
really good, but the conditions under which it had 
to be enjoyed were not the best. I ate mine sitting 
on the wood pile in the cook shack, with all the 
good things mixed together on one dish, just the 
same as all the others had to do. But it tasted 
fine, even if the chestnuts were floating in the 
SLe\yed corn and the turnips mixed with the plum 
pudding. In the evening, the officers of the Com- 
pany had another dinner in one of the houses of 
the village, and while it was not as typically Amer- 
ican as the other, it was excellently prepared and 
nicely served. 

Dec. 26tii.— We took to the road again, and this 
time marched to Chalvraines (Hte. Marne), a dis- 
tance of about sixteen miles. It continued to snow, 
and the ground was fairly well covered, making 
walking rather difficult. Likewise, it had grown 
quite cold and the wind blew strongly across ex- 
])osed ])laces. That night I had no sleep, merely 
getting three hours of so called rest on a few pine 



27 



boughs ill the corner of a deserted French army 
barracks, with only one blanket to cover nie. It 
was too cold for sleep. I did not turn in until after 
one in the morning, having waited up for the com- 
pany wagon to arrive, so as to be sure the stove 
was set up for the morning. 

Dec. 27th. — We marched to Noyers (Hte. 
Maine), the difficulties of the road increasing with 
almost every step. Some of the men seemed to suf- 
fer severely from bad feet, and the company officers, 
including myself, helped the men by carrying their 
rifles at times or taking their packs for a couple 
of miles, and I wound up the day by half-carrying 
one of the men whose feet went bad, for the last 
three miles. 

Dec. 28th. — The night found us in Neuilly- 
L'Eveque (Hte. Marne). We took a short cut for 
the last few kilometers, and, while it was shorter, 
it led us thru banks of deep snow on a by- road that 
had not been used by anyone since the start of the 
storm. It snowed on and off, and continued to get 
colder. 

Dec. 29th. — This was the last day of the march, 
and the night brought us to our new station, the 
town of Heuilley-Coton (Hte. Marne). This was 
by far the toughest of the six days of walking. The 
Avind was icy, the roads either being covered with 
snow or slippery as glass, and our hobnailed field 
shoes slid continuously. 

Excluding the fact that there is more danger in 
the trenches, I consider that this hike was far more 
trying than the life in the trenches. It was a real 
hardship, especially when one considers that we 



28 



had nothing to eat at noon, and only one slice of 
bread, molasses and vile coffee in the morning. The 
evening meal was served at any hour when the com- 
pany wagon arrived, and when it did not arrive 
until midnight, the men had to shift for themselves. 
At Chalvraines, but for the kindness of the French 
Commandant of the town, there would have been 
absolutely nothing for the men to eat, and as it 
was they did not get supper until eight o'clock, 
having had their breakfast at half-past six that 
morning ! The roads were so slippery that the mules 
could not pull the wagon, even after they had 
dumped off the ofiticer&v bedding rolls to lighten the 
load, MJiicli they did on the 26th. One day it took 
them eighteen hours to go- fifteen miles, with a de- 
tail of sixteen men to help the four mules. The 
whole affair was a hardship, and I believe we felt 
it more keenly because we knew that we could have 
made the trip by train in one day— if tlie orders 
liad read that way. 

Letter, Heuilley-Coton, Dec. 30th. — The coun- 
try hereabouts is really beautiful, but the difficul- 
ties of the road rather obscured all sense of the 
aesthetic. I came thru in good shape, tho- my shoesi 
Avere wet almost constantly. I wore the same pair 
of shoes that I had used in tlie trenches and they 
are about \\'orn out, having holes in the soles of 
both shoes. 

I hope to be able to change my under^^ear before 
long — and it is much too cold for cotton pajamas 
at night! I have, however, been able to get two 
baths this month, so I consider that I have had one 
bath and a half more than my share of luxury. 

Letter, New Year's Eve. — Tonight does not 
mean a great deal to me. For me, the sun Avill 



29 



rise to-morrow on another day merely — not the first 
sun of tlie New Year. Sitting" here with my k)ne 
candle, which has about one hour's more life to it — 
it is fitting that it should burn out before the end 
of the year — brings thoughts of our little gathering 
at home last year. Do you remend)er it? I know 
I do — in fact, it is only too unpleasantly on my 
mind at this moment. I say "unpleasantly'' because 
of the difference in New Year's Eve this year. 

It is now nearing ten o'clock; I cannot hear a 
single tin horn or rattler, the town is sound asleep, 
my fire is going out, and so is my last candle. Why 
waste two hours waiting in the dark for — what? 
No doubt, to-morrow's sun will have a cheering in- 
fluence, and I will i:»repare for it with a good night's 
sleep. 

So I'll stop now, by hoping that the New Year 
will bring happiness to the hundreds of millions of 
poor souls affected by this awful world's war. 

Letter, Jan. 2nd, 1918. — Just a line, close on 
the heels of ni}^ last one, to let you know that I have 
regained my mental equilibrium. I am in good 
spirits again ! Speaking of spirits, I did not take 
a single drink on New Year's Eve or January 1st. 
Plenty of it ever-^^w^here, but I just did not feel like 
drinking. 

Letter, Jan. 5th. — I am now the "police officer" 
of the town. No, I am not the chief of police ; rath- 
er I am "Highway and Sanitary Commissioner." 
It is my job to see that the boulevards are mani- 
cured properly, that latrines are kept clean and 
sanitary, that garbage pits are used for garbage 
only, etc. The military prisoner-s are assigned to 
the broom and shovel work, under my direction. I 
am relieved from company duties, so it is quite easy. 



30 



Instructive and interesting about £ums up the situ- 
ation. 

Letter, Jan. 12tii, to P. A. Dillon. — Your let- 
ter of November 14tli reached nie about noon two 
days ago, and an hour later the little medal plus, 
a borrowed safety pin adorned my left breast, there 
to remain both night and day. You see, it is too 
cold in the morning to take time changing from 
pajanuis to underwear, so the latter has to do 
twenty-four hours' service. I fully appreciate the 
kindly and interested spirit which prompted you 
to send this medal, and I would be a poor sort of 
a narrow-minded, bigoted cuss if I did not wear it 
all the time. And should I lose it — and I hope I 
won't — I am going to make an immediate noise for 
another I 

On pJanuary 12th the battalion surgeon ordered 
me to my quarters with 102 degrees of temperature, 
and an attack of laryngitis and bro-nchitis, which 
I had doubtless contracted while in charge of a 
fatigue party, sent to a neighboring town to get 
hari-ack bags and trunks. The party returned along 
tlie tow-i)ath of a canal, in the rain, sleet and raw 
wind, and the ground wasi very wet. The pace was 
slow, and I could not move fast enough to keep 
waiiii. 

Jan. 14til — While still in bed in my quarters, I 
received a si)ocial order directing me to report att 
Chaumont to the Chief Quartermaster, for assign- 
ment to temporary duty with the Quartermaster 
CovpH. Tho sick, I got out of bed immediately, 
packed my tiunk, and commandeered the company 
wagon to take my baggage to the railroad station, 
a mile and a half away. I was determined to get 
out of t()\vn before anyone had time to change his 
mind and countermand mv travel orders. 



31 



Jan. 15th. — I left town at about eight o'clock 
in the morning, which was the first train that I 
could get after receiving my orders. I spent five 
hours in Langres (Hte. Marne), waiting for train 
connections, and reached Chanmont at half -past six 
in the evening. 

Jan. IGth. — I reported to the Personnel Officer 
in tlie office of the Chief Quartermaster, and after 
I had been put thru an examination as to what I 
had done in civil life, I heard the most welcome 
news that I was to go to Paris ! I reached there at 
10 P. M. 

Letter, Paris, Jan. 17th. — Pursuant to a special 
order, I have been assigned for temporary duty with 
the General Purchasing Board, and am now sta- 
tioned in Paris. The General Purchasing Board 
has offices in the Hotel Mediterranee on the Quai 
de la Rapee and purchases all the materiel bought 
in Prance for the A. E. F. From what I heard, I 
believe my past experience as a purchasing agent 
accounts for the assignment. 

Letter, Jan. 20th. — I am now comfortably set- 
tled in the Pension St. Raphael, 5 rue des Pyra- 
mides, and my room is entirely in order, Avith every- 
thing in its place and a place for everything. All 
that I need now is a letter or two from home to 
make me happy. I have had none from you since 
the batch received about a month ago. 

I am quite sure that I shall like it here. I have 
a nice large outside room, with plenty of shelf and 
closet space. The large window^ opens out onto a 
balcony of limited proportions from which I can 
see the statue of Jeanne d'Arc. 



32 



The attack of broncliitis and laryngitis wliicli 
laid me up from Friday to Monday has jmssed and 
I feel absolutely well again. 

Letter, Jan. 25th. — The work I am doing is in- 
teresting; it takes me almost all over the city, and 
into some of the suburbs as well. I have been given 
charge of the preparation and shipment of "dub- 
bin,'' more commonly known as waterproof shoe 
grease. I suppose that I was assigned to this ( with 
true army perverseness) because I know nothing 
about it at all ! I am able to secure the use of a 
Ford for the big jumps, so I manage to get around 
fairly well. The chauffeurs are French veterans, 
most of them wounded to the extent of unfitting 
them for active military service. The one I had 
to-day has been cited four times for bravery, but 
you would never think it to look at him. He seems 
very quiet and retiring; but what a daredevil of a 
chauffeur he is ! He was an aviator, which probably 
accounts for it. 

The "pension" is a veritable house of all nations. 
There were six of us in the parlor after dinner a 
few evenings ago, and six nationalities were repre- 
sented : France, England, Greece, Belgium, Mexico 
and the United States. In addition, there is, to my 
knowledge, an Arabian and an Italian. Everyone 
talks French— except myself— quite fluently and 
tliey get along real well. The Mexican, Italian and 
Arab sit at my table, and use Spanish a large part 
of the time for their conversation. Oh, it's a great 
little world I am living in — and interesting, too ! 

Send me some American milk chocolate and 
crackers ! I can buy Uneedas and hard tack at the 
commissary, but I do not like either over much, and 
Fi-encli crackers are tasteless, the chocolate beino^ 



33 



not much better. Ask anyone why, and the answer 
comes quite readily, '^c'est la gnei-re." That expres- 
sion covers anything in the line of poor quality, 
high prices or small quantity. I have, however, had 
some perfectly delicious French pastry, tho it is 
both hard to find and high in price compared to 
what it was before the war. 

Living in Paris is ruinously high for a poor sec- 
ond lieutenant. To give you some idea of the cost 
of living here — a ten-cent cake of inferior chocolate 
costs 27 cents. I saw a sign this morning allotting 
families 21 pounds of soft coal a week for 3<S cents. 
My seat at the movies last night cost 50 cents for a 
perfectly legitimate 15-cent show at home. Labor- 
ers here get 10 francs a day against 6 francs before 
the war, but say they cannot live as well, and I can 
easily believe them too. 

Jan. 31st. — I went thru my first air raid. The 
alarm sounded at about eleven o'clock, just as I 
was going to bed. I went to the window to get a 
view of the bursting shells of the barrage, then con- 
tinued to undress and went to bed. I soon fell 
asleep, and read in the mor-ning paper that consid- 
erable damage had been done and a number of peo- 
ple killed and wounded. Everybody in the house 
went to the cellar except me. Perhaps I was crazy 
not to, but I was tired and felt that there Avas safety 
in sleep. 

Letter, Feb. 2nd, to P. A. Dillon. — Paris is 
nothing now compared with what it was before the 
war. The city is very poorly lit at night, and 
towards midnight it is almost totally dark. The 
restaurants stop serving and close at 9.30 P. M. 
Not all the theatres are open, but those that are 



u 



do a tlirivinii business, the audience beinj^ largely 
made up of soldiers. 

The crowds on tlie boulevards hold mj interest 
at all times. Beautiful and cleverly dressed women 
with officers and men of all the Allied nations — 
the French, of course, predominating — are seen 
everywhere. There is no doubt now in my mind 
that everything that has been said about the beauty 
of the women of France is true— and they know 
h(iw to dress, too. 

Feb. 7th. — A few days previously, I was made 
censor for the office, and became much disgusted 
with the love letters written by some of the men, 
who were — or said they were — lonesome in spite 
of Paris. It spurred me to writing verse (which 
I won't call poetry) y altho it does not look like 
prose. 

Celnsor Number ''A-8-4." 

I'm the censor for this office of the Quartermaster Corps. 
I read so many letters of the times spent long before — 
In the days when all was happy in our distant native land ; 
O'er which I must cast hurried eye ; and put my stamp by hand. 

I read 'em all, and stamp once more 

"Passed — Censor Number A-8-4." 

I read appealing letters sent to girls who have to stay 
From ardent lovers toiling here amidst the martial sway, 
And I wonder if the things they do are all so sweet and true 
As "I love you dear, I love no one, I love no one but you." 

To which I wink, and stamp once more 

"Passed — Censor Number A-8-4." 

I wonder if that girl at home is just as sad as he 
Who works by day, and then by night he promenades Paree : 
If she pines away her dear young life disturbed by city's sights 
Just as does her sweetheart on these dark Parisian nights? 

I think I know, and stamp once more 

"Passed — Censor Number A-8-4." 



35 

And lonesome hubby freely writes his lonesome faithful wife 
Of little things that happen him to cheer his daily life; 
The little things he wants to tell that make his life worth while— 
(He mentions not the 'demoiselle who greets him with a smile.) 

It seems all wrong. I stamp once more 

"Passed — Censor Number A-8-4." 

But wait 'til they get home again; 'tis then the trouble starts— 
(I sure will be proficient in the art of breaking hearts; 
I know so much of how they live — a song of happiness — 
It's better for 'most any man than trips thru I. C. S. !) 

I'm getting wise, and stamp once more 

"Passed — Censor Number A-8-4." 

I've fair become a cynic in this land of song and wine, 
Where strive we must to drive the Hun to lands beyond the 

Rhine ; 
I pray to find that I am wrong ; it's other than it seems — 
That truth and love will find their own when peace upon us 
beams. 

I hope they will, and stamp once more 
"Passed — Censor Number A-8-4." 

Letter, Feb. 8th, to M. L. Sipser. — I have re- 
ceived the smokes ! They came at last, and I want 
to express my sincere thanlis for yonr thonghtful- 
ness and kindness. I can use them, and you may 
be sure I will. Amer-ican cigarettes in France mean 
moments of comfort, and the atmosphere that makes 
one think of the land they came from ! I say this 
from my experience in trying to smoke the perfect- 
ly abominable native contraptions. France has 
wonderful wine, women and song, but I cannot say 
the same thing of its tobacco. 

Letter, Feb. IIth.— The Inspection and Deliv- 
ery Division has been organized with me as its 
chief, and the w^ork of starting things is consider- 
able. I worked Friday and Saturday evenings un- 
til about 11.15, and Sunday from 0.80 A. M. until 
5.30, so you can very well judge that I have been 
keeping myself out of mischief. As I now have 



36 



things in fair shape, I am going to take the evening 
off. 

I have moved to a larger and better located room 
in the same house. At my suggestion, Capt. Carroll 
E. Robb, Q. M. C, and 2nd Lieut. John H. Brum- 
lial], Engineers, moved a few days ago from their 
hotel to the "pension," and I wanted to be on the 
same floor with them. So now I have company in 
the evenings. 

Letter, Feb. 15th, to M. L. Sipser. — Let me con- 
fide this much in you. There is no one on this 
earth who thinks more of his mother than I do of 
n)ine! I have heard reports from all quarters of 
mother's sound, practical common sense, and I am 
l)roud of her! She is indeed an object lesson to all 
other mothers. One expects stoicism from men al- 
ways, from women rarely, and from mothers never; 
but mine, I see, is the proverbial exception. How- 
ever, I often wonder, what is that dear little old 
lady really thinking about? What is beneath the 
veneer of calm patience? Perhaps it is better for 
me that I do not know. 

I still manage to get my daily smile! I don't 
refer to booze, for while wine is plentiful, I do not 
<lrink too much. But I do continue to get my daily 
Jaugh out of life, and it is going to take more than 
tliis war to erase the smile tliat seldom comes off! 

Letter, Fer. IStii.— We had an air raid last 
night. All lights were turned off, and Robb, Brum- 
liall and I had a quiet smoke in utter darkness, to 
the tune of aeroplane motors and anti-aircraft guns. 
There was not enough doing to be really exciting. 

Letter, Feb. 26th.— I Mas invited to a dance at 
the Soldiers and Sailors Club on Saturday evening, 



37 



thru the kindness of a lady attaelied to the Amer- 
ican Consulate, but was obliged to tni-n it down 
as I had to work, Jnst imagine, having to miss a 
dance, and the iirst chance I have had in six 
months! Rather hard Inck, but '^c'est la gnerre." 

Only worked an hour and a half on Sunday morn- 
ing, and in the afternoon took a long walk with 
Lieut. Brnmhall. We stalled along the Hue de 
Rivoli, past the Place de la Concorde, to the Avenue 
des Champs Elysees into the Avenue du Bols de 
Boulogne, and then into the Bois itself. We tried 
to hire a rowboat on the lake, which, by the way, 
is quite charming, but I was informed that I would 
have to wait forty-five mniutes until our turn came, 
so we decided not to. We then strolled aindessly 
for a while and ended at a playground, where we 
found a couple of young Frenchmen throwing a 
tennis ball, and of course I "horned into the pas- 
time.'' Before \ery long, I was joined by a hos- 
pital corps sergeant, the Frenchmen dropping out. 
The sergeant and I stood about seventy five yards 
apart and began throwing flies to one another. In 
fifteen minutes we had a gallery of five hundred 
Frenchmen, grouped in the general form of a large 
oval completely surrounding* us, to watch us throw 
the ball. 

I really believe that baseball is going to become 
as much of a pastime in France as it now is in 
America, as the French are strong on sports. 

Letter, March 3rd. — I went to the movies the 
other night, and one of the pictures portrayed a 
boy in the act of delivering a letter and running 
away before the person receiving it had a chance to 
tip him. I therefore knew that the picture was not 
French ! 



Tipping is as prevalent (and irresistible) here 
as wine, women and song, and goes hand in hand 
with them. Go to a show, buy your ticket, and 
you are not supposed to sit down in the seat you 
have paid for without tipping the girl who leads 
you to your seat. This applies even to the movies. 
But lief ore you get to your seat, you are l)eset by 
a tiock of girls, who air their small stock of Eng- 
lish. They beg you to check your hat and coat, all 
for the sake of the few coppei-s that stick to their 
palms incidental to the taking of your things. Tip- 
ping for real service actually rendered always had 
my support, but begging for tips is about as mean 
a practice as I can think of. Of course, they are 
satisfied with small tips, but the Americans have, 
to a certain measure, spoiled them in this regard. 
They seem to think that fifty centimes is the small- 
est tip that an American should give, regardless of 
the size of the check or the character of the service 
performed, but I have become a perfectly good 
Frenchman regarding tips. Of taxi drivers, I won't 
speak at all, except that they never even say thanks 
for their tips, regardless of size. 

Letter, March IOth.— The air raid of March 
8th was the third I have been thru. Lieut. Brum- 
liall and I were out for a walk to the Place de 
I'Etoile, and Iiad not quite reached it, when the 
tirst ahirm was sounded. We went to the Place, 
and then waited to see what would happen. We 
could not see much as we were about two miles 
away from the point at which any damage was done. 
However, the flashes of the explosions lit the sky, 
the noise was very sharp and distinct and the vibra- 
tion easily felt, tho it was plain that the distance 
from the scene was great. 



39 



One of the most interesting' as well as hnmorons 
tilings I have seen, was the method used in stopping 
antos from going ahout with lights on after the 
alarm sounded. Tlie crowd wonld shout "la lu- 
miere," following the shouting with generous hands- 
ful of gravel thrown at the thoughtless (or traitor- 
ous) chauffeur, and the method, tho crude, invari- 
ably had the desired result. This is an excellent 
weather-vane of French temperament. I had my 
flashlight in my pocket, but was mighty cautious in 
its use. 

Letter, March 14tii. — Take it from me, "they 
ain't no sech animile" as a "cushy" job in this man's 
army. In the Zone of the iidvance, it is known as 
a "bomb-proof" job. Well, it isn't. That's all, it 
isn't, 'cause Fritzie won't have it so. Another air 
raid on Monday night last and it was a razzle- 
dazzle affair. I was out looking it over — foolish, 
you may think — and I distinctly heard the whistle 
of eight bombs, and of course heard as many explo- 
sions. I didn't like the whistle — judging from the 
sound, the bombs were too close — so I unconscious- 
ly flattened out on the sidewalk. I went down 
quickly, too, and am not ashamed to admit it. Oh, 
yes, it's a "bomb-proof," "cushy" job in Paris, I 
don't think ! 

I'm busy, too, for 

It's work, work, work, 

From moraing until late — 
It's work, work, work, 
At rapid, endless rate. 

What are you here for? 
The Quartermaster Corps? 
You are? Well, don't shirk ! 
YOU — work, work, work ! 



40 

An<l it about hits the mark, too, for anyone who 
thinks that the Q.. M. in Par-is or anywhere else 
in the A. E. F. has a "cushy," swivel chair time of 
it is makinii a hio- mistake. 

Lestter, March ITtii. — The work at the office 
moves along satisfactorily, hut I confess that I 
vastly prefer American business methods tO' those 
employed by our French friends. They never seem 
to be in a hurry, and such a thing as making a 
promise of a date of delivery seems to be unlieard- 
of. "Some time tliis week," "possibly in a few 
days," "just as soon as I can get a dray," "when 
Ave receive some material from our other plant," or 
"almost any day now," seem to be their acme of 
accuracy in the point of time. I am trying to get 
them accustomed to name a date on the calendar, 
and to insist upon their keeping promises. It is 
sometimes very exasperating work. I have a couple 
of interpreters doing the telephoning, and am get- 
ting them broken into this style of doing business. 
They know that there is no use of coming back to 
me with an indefinite promise, for if they do, I ask 
them "What does that mean?" and then they have 
to start things humming all over again. 

Letter, March 21st, to P. A. Dillon. — The 
weather has been excellent, and I believe spring is 
here in reality. The trees and shrubs are beginning 
to bud, and it will not be very long before every- 
thing is quite green. We have many cloudless days, 
and I now understand how this country has earned 
its name of "Sunny France." It is really remark- 
able, for sometimes for a span of twenty-four hoiirs 
not a single cloud crosses the sky, much less dims 
the bvilliauce of the sun. This is a wonderful 



41 



country, and it is the curse of the century that its 
beauty should be marred by this war. 

Letter, March 2Gth. — I eat luncli sometimes at 
a little restaurant in Avenue Ledrti Rollin, where 
the quality of food is excellent and the speed with 
which it is served positively American. Such speed 
is a distinct novelty in France. In this restaurant 
it is "thirty minutes for lunch" instead of "two 
hours for dejeuner," and this is much appreciated 
by the Americans who eat there. The owner of the 
place is a Frenchman, who for eleven years was the 
chef of Mrs. Spencer Lorillard of New York City. 
He knows something- of the American desire for 
haste and caters to it. 

Letter, March 26th. — I saw a copy of a cable- 
gram to-day from the Adjutant General's office in 
Washington, granting my transfer from Infantry 
to Quarternmster Reserve Corps, the reipiest for 
the transfer having been made at the "suggestion" 
of the Colonel, so as to make my work here more 
permanent. In consequence, I now sign myself 
"2nd Lieut. Q. M. R. C." 

Letter, March 31st. — Sorry, I did not get a long 
letter off to you last Sunday. As a matter of fact, 
Fritzie interfered with my plans. He started the 
long range gun early Saturday and continued it 
Sunday morning. All the transportation lines 
were shut down temporarily and it was too near 
the end of the month for me to take a taxi, cheap as 
they are, so I slept late. One of the other boarders, 
a female, awakened me at seven-thirty to inform me 
that there was another bombardment. I just fig- 
ured out that everything would be stopped, and 
went to sleep again until ten o'clock ! It honestly 
looks as tho I have not lost my ability to sleep, 
does it? 



42 



In Paris. 

The men up in the line 
Think the Q. M. Corps is fine, 
Doing naught but drink rare wine 
In Paris. 

We do more than meet a miss ; 
It's more than "hello" (kiss) ; 
This life is far from bliss 
In Paris. 

If it wasn't for us here, 
Your life would be quite drear 
At the front this time of year. 
Far from Paris. 

Warm socks and hats we buy, 
Grease to keep your feet quite dry. 
Which solves one reason why 
We're in Paris. 

And we keep your bellies full. 
Buy your clothes and things of wool — 
Oh, it's labor, oft distasteful, 
In Paris. 

We come early, and stay late. 
To keep things running straight ; 
If we don't, we get the gate 
From Paris. 

It's a job fit for the strong — 
You say — Wine, Women and Song? 
I haven't seen it in so long 
In Paris — 

That I wonder quite anew 
If the stories can be true 
Of what the people do 
In Paris ! 

Now hark to one who knows : 
We do more than take in shows ; 
We must stand both gaff and blows 
In Paris. 

Letter, April 3rd. — We had another raid scare 
the other night, this time at the unearthly hour of 
3.15 A. M., the "all clear'' being sounded at 4.30 



43 



A. M. I read tins in tlie paper the following day, 
as I did not stay awake to hear it. I love my sleep 
too nmch. The long-range gnn still keeps going 
fi'Oiu time to time, bnt we learned this morning that 
one of them had Inirst, killing five of the gnn crew. 
Sales Boches ! 

Last Monday, while along the Bonlevard at noon, 
on my way to get something to eat, I heard the re- 
port of a bnrsting shell, and got to it in short order. 
It went thrn the extension at the rear of a store 
in Rne Fanbonrg Poissonniere, and buried itself in 
the cellar, exploding there, and mixing beds, china- 
ware, stone wall, flooring, etc., in a most fantastic 
way. 

Letter, La Fleche (Sarthe), April Gth. — Here 
I am at ten o'clock in the morning at La Fleche, 
about 255 kilometers from Paris! I have not been 
transferred again, for I am here only for the in- 
spection of a large contract for coffins and crosses, 
and will return to Paris within a day or so. 

I left Paris at 7.30 yesterday morning, and 
reached Le Mans (Sarthe) at 12.15. I had my 
breakfast and lunch in one, as I had no time before 
leaving Paris. I caught another train at 4.45 and 
travelled another hour to La Suze (Sarthe), then 
changed cars again, this time to a mixed train, and 
arrived here at just 8 P. M., twelve and a half houi-s 
on the way, and the distance only IGO miles! 

At Le Mans, after eating dejeuner, I went out 
into the cafe, like a dyed-in-the-wool Frenchman, 
for coffee and liqueur. I seemed to do it as tho 
it had been my custom since boyhood. Then, hav- 
ing time, 1 looked the town over. It is a place of 
about 60,000 people, but at present it has many 
more because of the number of refugees that have 
come from around the active battle fi'onts. 



44 



While strolling aioiuid the market place, I spied 
an American oflficer leaning out of the window of 
a hotel ; I hailed him and went np to his room upon 
his invitation. He is a First Lieutenant of Cavalry, 
and is in charge of the Railroad Transportation 
Office there. He has six men with him, they being 
the only Americans in the town. A good chance 
to learn French, but I would rather have a few 
more Yanks in my immediate neighborhood. After 
a chat of an hour or so, the railroad cavalryman 
and I went to the station, and I left town at 4.45. 

In my compartment was a M. Voisin, a French 
gentleman-farmer, who spoke a little English, and 
we struck up a French English conversation. He 
has a large farm with a pretty chateau at La Suze, 
Avhere I next changed cars. He has given his cha- 
teau as a hospital, retaining only a small part for 
himself, and I received a most cordial invitation to 
visit him, should I ever find the opportunity. 

The next train I took was a mixed train, and the 
joys of riding over a disjointed roadbed in a coach 
having an endless number of flat wheels cannot be 
imagined! I got here at eight o'clock, and there, 
backed up against the station platform, was a typi- 
cal back-country 'bus, proclaiming to the world that 
the sleepy driver would take you to the Hotel de 
rimage for five sous ! I took it, and felt somewhat 
better after a well-cooked dinner and plenty of it. 

This all takes place in Normaudy. Of course, 
that means apples and cider. There seems to be 
an inexhaustible supply of both here, and while I 
like the apples fairly well, I don't think the cider 
comi)ares to our ordinary American variety. The 
api)le trees are just starting to blossom, and I have 
also seen some early wild roses budding beautifully. 
There are so many apples in this country, that they 



45 



rot awaiting transportation. How the bnneh at the 
conntry store wonkl revel at the apple-jack that 
eonld be made here I 

La Fleehe is a picturesque town of aliont 11,000 
people, so I am told, and of course has its propor- 
tionate number of churches, dogs and soldiers. I 
am the only American here, so now it is "ici on 
parle franc^^ais," and tho I no doubt use grammar 
and constructions all my own, I manage to make 
myself understood, and have not had to go hungry 
xet. 

Just as I left the ho'tel to go to the coffin and 
cross factory, a garrulous old Frencliman, who 
spoke in a dialect that I did not understand any 
too well, heard the patronne direct me on my way, 
and tho it was "tout droit'' (as most directions are 
in France, no matter how winding), he volunteered 
to guide me. We passed the Hotel de Ville and, 
after I had seen the sign, he announced proudly 
that it was the Hotel de Ville, to which I made 
remark that the one in Paris was no more beauti- 
ful, even if it was a little larger. We passed an 
old house, and he told me that it was the oldest in 
the town. It ought to be. I hope for the sake of 
the owners that there are none more ancient. And 
so on, until I reached the factory. And the diminu- 
tive little fellow — he looked like a gnome in a fairy 
tale — was proud to be able to walk thru the town 
with the first Yankee officer or soldier to set foot 
in this quiet little city. In fact, he talked so loud 
that if I were Tody Hamilton of Barnum & Bailey 
fame, I could not have asked for anything better 
to attract the attention of the populace. 

The youth of the town, here too, has gone, and 
only the very young and painfully old can be seen 



46 

on tlie streets. There are a few Ffeuch troops sta- 
tioned here, but not many. 

Taken all in all, weii^hing discomforts, most of 
which are due either directly or indirectly to the 
war, against delightfully beautiful quaintness, I 
admit freely that I lave this country, and I hope to 
see it again ! 

Letter, April 8th. — I am back in Paris. The 
train left La Fleclie at G.30 A. M., so I turned in 
early the night before, and got up at 5.15, had 
breakfast, and the same 'bus took me down to the 
station. I got into the same flat-wheeled coach that 
took me into the town, and I am now convinced 
that it is the only first-class coach on that particu- 
lar streak of rust. 

I had another breakfast at Le Mans, which was 
lucky foresight, because I did not get anything 
more to eat until I reached Paris, and got to my 
room. That was 4 P. M., and I opened the box of 
cheese crackers received from home, adding some 
Chester cheese that I happened to have there. But,, 
of course, I was willing to eat again at dinner last 
evening. 

We are moving into a furnished apartment. I 
packed my things last evening, and to-day I am; 
going to move. Capt. Robb and Lieut. P>nnnhair 
move<l last evening. 

Letter, April IItii.— I think that we have made 
a very wise change in moving to an apartment. 
We have a maid of the tender age of forty-five or 
fifty ; she is an excellent cook, and takes good care 
of the place. I have to do practically all of the 
talking with Marie, the maid, for she does not know 
a single word of Engli.sh, and the other bovs do not 



47 



know even as much French as I do. When we lirini;' 
home stuff from the Commissary, I even have to 
translate the labels on the cans ! 

The three of us are delighted with the change. 
We have three bedr-ooms, a ])arlor, dining room, 
kitchen, foyer and maid's bedroom, electric light, 
hot water, elevator, etc. The location, 71) Boulevard 
liaspail, is such that it only takes us about five 
minutes longer to get to the office in the morning. 
It is not far from the Luxembourg Gardens, and 
within easy walking distance of the Latin Quarter. 
At first glance, if nothing else, we are quite satis- 
fied. 

I have the following to offer, with hundde apol- 
ogies to Eugene Field. It is written about an in- 
cident which Capt. Robb told me happened some 
years ago, with his father as the principal char- 
acter : 

The Assault on Prair' du Chien. 

There's a town in old Wisconsin where the things are always 

green, 
That's long been known in hist'ry by the name of Prair' du 

Chien ; 
Tho it's shy on population, it has many liquor shops 
And a most efficient brewery for mixing malt and hops ! 
And the people there were happy in the days when all was free, 
Tho Dad had tried to close the town while he was on a spree. 
(Which spree consisted mainly of securing evidence 
On Sunday by partaking at the other chap's expense!) 
Then he came home and told my Maw of how he had a drink; 
And Maw, she sat down on the stairs and tried so hard to think 
Of reasons why poor Dad should fall into such evil ways 
While he was out crusading with two white-ribboned jays! 

He started in the morning full of vim and righteous zest. 
And came back in the evening with a few below his vest. 
He was guided on the pilgrimage by Stuart— first name Joe — 
There's no better man in Prair' du Chien than him (I'll have you 
know) 



48 



To lead a temp'rance party from near or from afar 

To find old Chesky's, Quinlan's or the famous Sherman Ijar ! 

Why, Joe's intuition has been known to lead him in the dark 

To places where there's liquor — and he's never missed his mark! 

A lantern's never needed where this guardian angel goes, 

As his steps are guided wisely by his brilliant ruddy nose ! 

They stepped into the Burlington to watch a little game ; 
The limit was the azure sky — but things were running tame 
Until Ed Powers got a hunch and cracked it for a bone, 
And several others trailed along, including Deacon Stone. 
My Dad was sure dumfounded when the Deacon said "I'll stay" 
And tried to fill an inside straight (as he was shy a tray). 
The Deacon long was labelled "tight," and never spent a cent 
Except on eats and clothing, and of course his booze and rent. 
And alongside of each player was a glass of colored cheer — 
Dad took some of all of them from whiskey straight to beer. 
It wasn't very hard for Dad — the play was so intense, 
And then you know that was his job — imbibing evidence! 

That party broke up rather late with Dad out for the count. 
My Maw was standing on the porch to see him stagger and mount 
The steps that broke the level of the lawn before the house ; 
With shoes in hand, he tried to walk as noiseless as a mouse. 
He figured not and cared the less that Joe had blown the works 
With a line of talk to wake the dead and even scare the Turks I 
Twas but a moment later that he owned up taking a drink, 
Twas then that Maw sat on the stairs and tried so hard to think 
Of reasons why my Dad should fall into such evil ways 
While he was out crusading with two white-ribboned jays ! 

Now Dad, if you'll be guided by the prayer of a dutiful son. 
Remember what the finish was of a task you'd but begun ; 
Let your efforts be domestic ; don't venture near the Seine 
Where the liquor flows more cominon than the fall of pouring* 

rairt! 
And if they turn Wisconsin dry, I hope they won't forget 
To build a dam 'round Prair' du Qiien and keep it wringing wet t 

Letter, April 12tit, to P. A. Dillon. — A re- 
markable fact abont drinking in France is that 
drunkenness is almost unknown. Incidentally, 
there are no sAvingiii"- doors in Paris— except in a: 
vei-y few Americanized bars — because if there were, 
it would interfere with business, but it has not quite 



49 



reached the state where U\o doors are necessary, 
one marked "Entree" and the other ^'Sortie." The 
Frenchman does not gnlp down his liqnor to make 
way for more, as the American does. A glass of 
wine or beer shonld last at least one hour and forty- 
three minutes, or else the drinker may be required 
to give a good reason for his disgusting haste. 

We have been entertained now and then by the 
long-range gun that the Huns are using on Paris. 
Their best (?) results were obtained when they 
dropped a shell thru the roof of the Church of St. 
Gervais on Good Friday, killing or wounding 
about two hundred worshippers. Otherwise, this 
gun only has what might be termed local results. 
It does not do nearly the damage that a gun of its 
calilire would do if fired at ordinary artillery 
ranges and from an ordinary gun. The people do 
not seem to be much worried about it, either, and 
everything moves along about the same as witlujut 
it. 

Letter^ April 15th, to M. L. Sipser. — I saw 
quite a crowd when I left the Metro this morning. 
It was in front of the imposing Gare de Lyon, and 
I immediately asked myself if this w^as another of 
those infernal French holidays that prevent a man 
doing a day's work in American fashion, but on sec- 
ond glance, I saw that I was quite mistaken. The 
crowd was composed mostly of youths, probably 
about eighteen or nineteen years old, and almost 
every one of them carried a small knapsack slung 
over one shoulder. I then knew what it was. It 
was the Class of 11)19 gathering at the railroad 
station to go to a concentration camp somewheres, 
and from there to where? The Great Beyond for 
some, a nmrred and scarred future for others, but 
hardships for all, but the future did not seem to 



50 



bother them in the least. lu the crowd also were 
numbers of women, some young and others old, 
gome in black and others probably doubting not but 
what they soon would be; but there was not the 
slightest sign of a tear. Perhaps that would come 
later when the train left. A strictly military train 
in France is somewhat uncertain of the exact min- 
ute of its departure, so I could not wait. Further- 
more, it is less sure of the hour of its ariival. 

These lads had all sorts of musical instruments 
— mouth organs, bugles, accordians and so on — 
and they were indeed a happ}' and gay lot. No^ 
France is not finished yet by any manner of means. 
When you get into conversation with a man, you 
might find that he, individually, is rather tired of 
the whole business, but you Avill have to probe deep- 
ly to find it out. To the whole world, however, he 
has just begun to fight. 

And this Class of 1919 — mere youngster-s — seem 
gay and eager to get into the fight. It is but an- 
other phase of the French "Don't give up the ship,'' 
with the carefree lads of yesterday rushing to be 
the seasoned and war-stained veterans of to-mor- 
row. 

I had au amusing experience on a railroad train 
the other day. I was travelling first-class, and in 
came a very pleasant tlio buxom lady of perhaps 
forty. She was accompanied by the usual assort- 
ment of baggage consisting of two handbags, sev- 
eral paper bundles, an umbrella, a mesh nmrket 
bag, a bird cage or two, a 1911 model Ford, a wine 
bottle and a couple of blankets, and was blithe- 
fully discussing God-knows-what with God-knows- 
whom, when the Controlleur came around and 
yelled something that sounded like "BrrrrFn Br'ge, 
ch'nge f'r City Haaaaall" adding the customary 
"sil vous plait," in a tone that seemed more like 



51 



"gimme.'' I produced my yellow ticket (first-class) 
and slie showed hers, a green one (second class). 
In several thousand words, she was told that she 
was in a first-class coach, and after the argnment 
went on for fifty or sixty kilometers (it was a slow 
train too), and had been joined in by everyone in 
the compartment, excepting myself for obvions rea- 
sons, it wound np with an ultimatum from tlie Con- 
trolleur that she could stand in the llrst-class coach 
for the price of her seat in the second-class. And 
of cO'Ui'se, as soon as the exalted gold- braided and 
lespangled cflflcial turned his back, she resumed her 
seat, with a complacent but injured air. 

It reminded me very much of America, it was so 
different. I did not enter into the argument for I 
was afraid that I might introduce some direct 
American methods, and thereby spoil the comic 
opera effect ! 

Letter, April 2ijTH. — I have been relieved offi- 
cially of the censoring job, for which many thanks. 
For the past two months another Lieutenant has 
lieen doing the work, tho I have been obliged to re- 
tain responsibility for the seal, but I have at last 
been relieved, and have taken receipt therefor from 
this other teniente. 

Letter, May 2nd. — We changed apartments yes- 
terday, and now live at 12-bis Avenue MacMahon, 
which is in a much better section of town. The 
apartment itself is not quite as nice as the other 
one, bnt I am sure that we will get along all right 
in our new quarters. Our maid moved with us, 
which is fortunate. One of Capt. Rol)b's friends, a 
Capt. Davis (West Pointer), 3rd Cavalry, Assist- 
ant Adjutant of U. S. Troops in Paris, is going to 
live with us. 



Letter, May 4tii. — We now have ourselves fair- 
ly in order in the new apartment, and I believe we 
will like it here quite as well as in the old place. 
There are a few matters that do not seem to be 
quite as comfortable as formerly, being in an older 
building-, but it is in a much better and more in- 
teresting quarter, and I think we have nmde a wise 
change. Capt. Davis moved in to-day. We have 
four liedrooms instead of three as formerly. 

I had dinner last Sunday evening with Capt. 
IJobb at the home of a French lawyer, who invited 
some American officers to dine with him, and the 
officer in charge of such invitations turned it over 
to Robb and me. This gentleman spoke excellent 
English, and we had b.oth a good meal and a very 
enjoyable evening. 

Last Thursday evening I had dinner with another 
Frenchman, whom I had met a nund)er of times 
previously, and was asked to bring Capt. Robb 
along. We again had a good time, with consider- 
able music, as there were several present who could 
play the piano and sing. 

Letter, May IOtii.— Our offices have been moved, 
and now I live only six minutes' walk away from 
work! My two rooms contain about double the 
floor space that I had formerly, and are located on 
the fourth floor of the Elysee Palace Hotel, which 
was formerly one of the l)est hotels in Paris. ^ly 
desk is alongside a window that overlooks the 
Avenue des Champs-Elys^es. I am flanked by 
Colonels, Majors and Captains, and cannot (piite 
understand why a poor, lowly Second ''Loot" should 
fall heir to any such portion of good luck. 

Lately, I have played ball a bit in the Tuillei-ies 
Gardens at noontime, the French gatherino about 



53 

to watch the fun. Tliere are about ei^ht or ten of 
ns who oet a half hour or so of this each (hiy, and 
I am glad to get the exercise. 

Mother's Day Letter, May 12th. — 
My Own Dear Mother: 

I could not permit Mother's Day to pass without 
a line to my dear, brave, and now somewhat lonely 
little Mother. 

I am surrounded by pleasure and gaiety, in spite 
of the war and its toll of human sadness, but I 
must admit to you that I have frequent spells of 
deep thinking — spells when I recall the many, many 
times that you have advised and guided me, cajoled 
and chided me, but always with the one sole pur- 
pose: tO' make me a fit son of such a wonderful 
Mother. 

Had I no Mother to whom I want to return, I 
would be content to stay in Paris for the rest of 
my life. I have taken walks on many evenings with 
Lieut. Brumhall, and at some time or other I al- 
ways come back to the subject of my Mother! Yes, 
dear old lady, I am thousands of miles from you, 
and don't know when we will be together again, 
but I hope you will realize that you are still my 
loving- little Mother. I remember well when, on 
some occasio'ns:, I almost became a wayAvard son — 
and, of course, it was Mother Avho shook me liack 
onto the Path of Better Sense. Oh, how I pity the 
fellows who have no Mother to write to this day! 

So, just remember the baby boy of yours wlio 
still loves you and always will, and try to realizi^ 
that the years of worry, toil and patience that have 
been yours are now bearing fruit in tlie foi-m of 
the love of a man full-grown, for his df^ar, little, 
old ladv Mother! 



54 



Letter, May 15tii. — I ^pent last Sunday with 
some business friends at the beautiful suburb of St. 
Germain. One cannot appreciate the beauties of 
French landscape by readiu" Itooks ; it must be seen 
to be fully understood. I am quite in love with 
France, and expect, before very long, to be quite 
a frog-eater myself. 

LEfFTER, ^Iay 20tii. — Yesterday I went to the 
Aviation Field at Villacoublay, which is near 
Paris, with Capt. Bee Osborne of the American 
Aviation Section. It is an enormous field ; one can 
hardly see from one end to the other, tho yesterday 
being Sunday, there was little doing. 

While at the fiehl, I saw a. German Gotha night 
bombing 'plane that had been captured undamaged 
by the Belgians. It is an enormous machine of 
sinister appearance, and one can understand what 
power of destruction it has, upon being told its 
carrying capacity, and seeing its bomb racks and 
releasing mechanism. 

I am at the office now; it is 0.10 P. M., and by 
6.30 I will be HOME in a tub of cold water! Oh, 
the Battle of Paris is dreadful ! 

Letter, May 24th.— We have had a couple of 
air raids this week, and one of them made me really 
angry. On Tuesday night last I turned in at about 
ten o'clock, and promptly fell asleep. About a half 
hour later, I was awakened by the sirens blowing 
the alert. I listened for a while to the artillery 
barrage fire, and fell asleep again. Then they ble^^• 
tlie ''all clear" signal directly below my window — 
in order to wake me up to tell me that I could go 
to sleep once more ! On Wednesday, we had two 
alerts in one night, tliereby establishing a record 
for Paris, I believe. 



55 



These air raids are no longer variety, they are 
almost monotonous. 

Letter, Le INIans, May 27tii, to P. A. Dillon. — 
As YOU can see by the letterhead (Hotel Continen- 
tal, Le Mans), I am away from Paris, this being a 
short business: trip. 

I am kept quite busy with my AYork, but have 
been very fortunate in having two offtcers assigned 
to me for duty. Strange as it may seem, both of 
tliese are First Lieutenants, and naturally outrank 
me, tho I am still in command. It is a very queer 
twist, and is rather a difficult proposition to 
handle, calling for the use of considerable diplo- 
macy. It is much too early, however, to say just 
how it is going to work out. 

The country I am going thru is really wonderful. 
Everything is green, and one is almost made to 
think that this is our own country. The houses 
and people are different, to be sure, but Nature is 
quite the same — fields of daisies, buttercups and 
clover — and the trees are almost exactly the same, 
except perhaps for a larger proportion of poplar 
and willow. The soil itself seems to be remarkably 
fertile and in spite of the war is still well kept. 

I had the pleasure yesterday of taking an auto 
ride thru some charming country near Flers 
(Orne), amidst pretty mountain scenery not at all 
unlike Sullivan County back in the Empire State. 
It was so close to what I have been accustomed to 
see at home, that my poor feeble mind wandered, 
and I had to bring it back with a heart-breaking 
jerk! 

Letter, May 31st. — I went on a trip on Sunday 
morning at eight o'clock to Flers (Orne) and La 



56 



Fleclie (Sarthe), returning at 4 P. M. Wednesday, 
and in spite of the nnconifortable conditions of 
French railway travel of to day, I enjoyed the trip. 
The business part of it was satisfactory also. In 
Flers, I was informed that I was tlie first American 
officer who had ever been in the town. Naturally 
I was somewhat of a curiosity, and had to occupy 
the limelight while I was there. 

While awaiting train connections at La Suze, I 
availed myself of the invitation extended me by M. 
Voisin to visit him at his home. He sliowed me 
over his farm and I saw three husky, happy and 
apparently well-fed Boche prisoners working his 
farm, without guards. M. Voisin told me, in answer 
to my question, that there was no danger of tlieir 
escaping — they had no desire to, as they had all 
they could eat, a good place to sleep, smokes and 
clothes and some pay. 

My host invited me to take lunch with him. It 
was one of the best and simplest meals I have ever 
had, consisting of eggs, fresh salad, pheasant pie^ 
cheese, coffee and some forty-four year old Burgun- 
dy! He apologized that the liqueur was not quite 
as old as the wine — being only twenty-five year old 
fine champagne — but it was strong enough for me. 

I missed a couple of air raids while away, but 
have been in a few since coming back — rather I 
have slept thru them. The long-range gun has com- 
menced once more, and now everything is about as 
one would expect it to be. In fact, most of us have 
been wondering why the Boche let us alone as long 
as lie has. 

Letter, June 2nd. — Below is my latest bit of 
rhyme, which was finished in bed last night, the last 
two or three lines being written to the accompani- 
ment of an anti-aircraft barrage, an alarm having 



been sounded a few niinntes previously. From the 
sad ending of the poem, you can about judge how 
nervous I was. Then I turned the light out and 
went to sleep, reading in the paper this morning 
when the show was officially declared finished. 

Earlier in the evening I went to the Theatre 
Edouard VII, and saw an interesting comedy, 
which was acted in French, of course. 



An Amex Lament. 

This land is famed the world around for drinks of varied taste ; 
I've sampled almost all of them, and put them 'neath my waist ; 
I've had porto in the morning, followed soon by Bordeaux's best, 
But I long to hear the cheerful call of waiters of the West 
As they deftly flip the bar-checks, and yell their cheering bark — 
"It's the same old liquid story, Billy: Draw two! And make 'em 
dark!" 

Yes, they've beer in this great country where it's known as "de 

la bierre," 
But it's not at all like that at home, where you find it everywhere ; 
Here are fifty different brands of beer, which taste about the 

same, 
But none that equals Ehret's or some more that one could name 
To the man who flips the bar-checks, shouting near your home — 
"It's the same old liquid story, Billy: Draw two! And mind the 

foam !" 

I've had fancy drinks at swell cafes on the famous boulevard 
That are guaranteed to cheer your life — but swallow mighty 

hard — 
Fve had other drinks, less fancy, at some quiet wayside shrine, 
But I still am waiting patiently the sound I think divine 
Of the man who flips the bar-checks, and bellows clear and bold — 
"It's the same old liquid story, Billy: Draw two! Be sure it's 

cold !" 

Letter, June 9th. — Capt. Robb has been ordered 
elsewhere, and he left Paris early this morning. 
It now behooves Brundiall and myself to find a suit- 
able third person to share our a])artment with us 



58 



or else we will be obliged to move, as the expense 
of keeping up an apartment without a third officer 
is too great. Capt. Davis moved to other quarters 
about two weeks after he joined us. 

I have been very busy last week, and in checking 
up things in my DivisiO'U, I find that there are ex- 
actly twenty one people working for me, so you 
can see that the amount of work must have in- 
creased tremendously. I expect to have at least 
thirty people working under my direction in an- 
other month. We have had a change of Colonels, 
and the new Colonel called the various heads of 
Divisions together. The gathering consisted of 
three Majors, six Captains and — me. 

The air raids and long-range gun have not run 
quite true to form this week ; so little of either that 
I am beginning to feel slighted and lonesome once 
more. 

June 13th. — I received a letter from Capt. Robb^ 
who is now at 8t. Aignan, which I quite in full : 



"Dear Mela & Brummy 
"Oh, God! 



"A. P. O. #727, 
"June 10th, 1918. 



"ROBB." 



1 thought I ought to send him a line of consola- 
tion, which I did in these words : 

When you're tucked away in a little town the size of a peanut 

shell, 
When you feel that you are sliding to the depths of deepest Hell 
With naught to do on Sunday, but to wait for Monday's sun^ 
That's the time to start in thinking of the joys of former fun 
And not to sit down sadly, writing lines of bleak despair 
That I've read in this short note of yours — but which I do not 

share — 

Thank God ! 



59 



Letter, June 13th. — Lieut. Briiniliall is sliortly 
going- to leave Paris for a new station, and I have 
been fortunate in getting two other Lieutenants to 
share the apartment. They are 2nd Lieut. Fore- 
hand, who liails from the Dakotas, and 2nd Lieut. 
Townseud, who claims jMississippi as his home 
State, so for the present the North, East and South 
are represented in the apartment. They are both 
of them fine chaps, and I believe that w^e will be 
quite happy together. 

Letter, July 19th. — What do I think of the 
girls of France? In some ways, I like them better 
than the girls of America, but in most ways, I will 
continue to pin my faith on the home grown and 
raised variety. The French lassie dresses witli 
much more '^chic'' than the girl at home does, is 
more frank and friendly, but in that frankness and 
friendliness there is the danger of frequent changes 
of friendship! Yes, I still think a whole lot of the 
American girl, and really believe that I always will. 

Letter^ June 24th. — I have received no mail 
from the States for almost three weeks now, with 
the exception of a letter dated May 31st, which 
reached me the middle of last week. I don't know 
why this is, but assume that it is because of the 
change of control of the postal service, which passes 
from the hands of the Post Office Department to 
the Army on the 30th of this month. 

Letter^ June 27th. — I received word from Harry 
that he has been sent to a hospital on account of the 
condition of his feet, and as it so happens that I 
am going into the neighborhood of the hospital the 
end of this week, I expect to be able to see him. I 
am going to take him some goodies, such as I can 



60 



buy here, including smokes (tho tbev are rather 
scarce hereabouts). I do not believe that there is 
anything- serious the matter with him, but if I find 
that he is permanently incapacitated for infantry 
duty, I shall try to get the Colonel to interest him- 
self in Harry's case. We are short of personnel 
here, as it is. But it all depends upon his condi- 
tion, and what the medicos say about him. 

The business trip took me to Eouen and to 
Le Treport-Mers (Seine Inferieure), where Harry 
was in Base Hospital #10. 

Letter^ Le Treport^ June 30th. — The hospital is 
a big alfair, has 2200 beds, and is situated on a high 
cliff overlooking the ocean. The air is wonderful, 
but almost too cool most of the time. All in all, it 
is an ideal spot for a hospital. I am quartered and 
mess with the hospital staff. 

Letter, July 2nd. — I got back to Paris at 7 
o'clock yesterday evening, after a perfectly miser- 
able eight hour trip from Le Treport, the train be- 
ing about two hours late. 

I had a very nice visit with Harry, and assure 
you that there is nothing to worry about. He is 
absolutely well except his feet, and is quite cheerful. 
I was told that he would have to remain there for 
two or three weeks to rest up. He is almost to l>e 
congratulated ; just think, nothing at all to do ex- 
cept eat and sleep. 

Letter, July 6th.— The Fourth of July Celebra- 
tion is, of course, the most interesting news I have. 
It might be summed up by relating what a French- 
man told me after tlie parade was over. He said 
that not in twenty years had he ever seen such gen- 



Gl 



nine entlinsiasm shown by a Parisian crowd ! I 
can well believe that too. The enthusiasm was spon- 
taneous, boisterous and certainly sincere and 
coi'dial. It was not one of those inspired forms of 
enthusiasm, such as one would expect Fritz to show 
when ordered to do so by the Supreme Devil; in- 
stead it was inspiring, contagious and sincere, such 
as a free people give vent to to express their a])- 
preciation for helj) received from another country. 
I have always realized that the French appreciate 
fully America's aid, and the demonstration for the 
United States last Thursday was enough to remove 
the last shadow of doubt from anyone's mind. 

I was present at the parade, and it seemed that 
all of Pai-is was there also. The str-eets were crowd- 
ed with people, all were in wonderful humor, and 
laughter was everywhere. This is the first time in 
some years that the French people have felt like 
showing their joy -loving dispositions, and they 
showed it Thursday with a vengeance. On every 
side one heard how magnificently the Americans 
marched — truly they did march well — and while a 
battalion of poilus was in line also, it was America's 
Day, and everywhere it was praise for her and her 
sons. 

I enjoyed the parade thoroly, feeling proud that 
I am an American, and in the evening I went to a 
dance, to continue the good time that I had started 
in the morning. 



62 

The Parisian Mitrailleuse. 

It's sure no boast of mine 

That I've been in the line 
Where you brave the worst and trust that all goes well. 

Where mighty cannons roar, 

And dauntless birdmen soar, 
Where sleepless eyes stand guard o'er darkest hell. 

Where you think of what you've had 

Before the world got mad, 
'Ere we set our course to trim the heartless Hun ; 

But these dangers can't compare 

With the inch you have to spare 
When Paris taxis make you take it on the run! 

The oath you took demands 

That you obey commands, 
So you travel 'bout the city all the day; 

But if you don't take care 

And stand somewhere and stare 
At sights- — some queer and others quite risque : 

I'm sure you soon will find 

There's more to bear in mind 
Than dreaming at some ancient pile of rock ; 

As sure as you are born, 

A squawking taxi horn 
Will wake you — when it's passed about a block I 

Or then you may have made 

A most successful raid 
In a little game that's played by five or so; 

Your purse is filled with bills. 

You quit the sidewalk's thrills 
To speed in ease to where you have to go. 

The meter's cursed greed 

Reflects the taxi's speed — 
At the journey's end you boil, and howl and rave„ 

It's no use for you to vent 

Your feelings on this gent ; 
For he's French — and will be talking in his grave !• 

If you took the fools of France 

And gave them, half a chance, 
You would make a really winning combination ; 

Give each of them a wheel, 

A spark plug and some steel, 
And you'd, have these star performers of this nation. 



63 



They ought to be restrained, 

They're wild — they're but half-brained, 
But they have their place by day as well as night. 

If taxies were real old, 

Then Sherman might have told 
"The taxi sure is hell !" and Sherman — he'd be right ! 

Letter^ July 15th. — I saw the parade yesterday 
in honor of Bastille Day, from the window of a 
business fii ni with which I am acquainted, and that 
fortunately for me has its showrooms along the line 
of march. I had an excellent view, and witnessed 
one of the most interesting reviews that I have ever 
seen. 

In line were troops of France, United States, 
England, Scotland, New Zealand, Australia, Can- 
ada, Greece, Portugal, Italy, Polish Legion of the 
French Army, and Serbia, also detachments of 
French Marines. Almost all of the men carr-ied 
bouquets of flowers that were showered on them by 
the enthusiastic population. Everybody was happy 
and gay, and it was hard to realize that the front 
line is only a matter of forty or forty-five miles from 
Paris. I liked it even better than the Fourth of 
July parade. 

The Americans in line came in for their full share 
of the applause that was going around rather freely, 
but I think that the honors for good marching went 
to the British Tommies. The greatest amount of 
applause went to France's Blue Devils, and well 
they deserved it, too ! 

The weather has been showery for the past week 
or ten days, and part of the parade of yesterday 
was held in anything but favorable weather. It 
seems to rain off and on every day now, but if that 
helps to keep down the number and intensity of 
the air raids, I am satisfied. 



64 



Letter^ July 18tii. — Lieut. Forehand, one of the 
two officers who are living with me, has been ordered 
to Italy for duty and Avill leave to-morrow or the 
day after. After my experiences changing living 
companions so much, I am afraid I will have to 
alter my style of living. 

Letter^ July 25th. — I have been spending quite 
a number of evenings by taking short walks and 
resting a while on the chairs that line the Avenue 
du Bois de Boulogne, It is both interesting and 
restful to watch the crowds that throng there dur- 
ing these beautiful summer evenings. The twilights 
are very long, and due to the daylight saving ]>lan, 
it is not really dark before ten o'clock. The air is 
mild, and this mildness combined with the marvel- 
ous twilights make a delightful way to spend the 
evening. 

Letter, July 28th. — I attended a performance 
of "Madame Butterfly" at the Comedie Francaise 
last Thursday night. I had a military pass, which 
admitted me to the theatre, but I arrived late, as 
the curtain rises at 7.30, and had to stand during 
the entire show. It was well worth it tho, for I en- 
joyed it from beginning to end. 

While I was in the hall tliis morning, walking- 
towards the Colonel's office, who comes around a 
turn but Harry ! He was on his way from the hos- 
pital to the casual camp at Blois for assignment to 
duty in the S. O. S., and a mighty healthy speci- 
men of humanity he appeared to be, too ! I gave 
him a bath — or rather, I provided the accommoda- 
tions for him to take one himself — and after that 
I took him over to the apartment and stuffed a good 
lunch into him. Judging from his appetite, there 
is mii^htv little the matter with him. He walks 



05 



apparently as well as anyone I ever saw, and be 
looks fine. After Inncli 1 took him to two places, 
fanions for their drinks, then escorted him to the 
train and saw him safely on his way to Blois. 

Letter^ Aug. 4th. — This is Sunday, and to-day I 
am detailed as Officer of the Day, and have to re- 
main at the office for the entire day. This really 
does not mean a thine, except that I have to be here 
and take care of any telegrams or telephone 
messages that might come in, and between times I 
am trying to catch up with my correspondence. 

Last night I attended another dance, bnt did not 
do mnch dancing, as it was almost too warm for 
that form of indoor sport. 

Letter^ Aug. 4th to M, L. Sipser. — We have been 
free from air raids for a very long time, and the 
long range gnn has been silent even longer, and 
now that they have pushed the front away from 
Paris, I presume that the gun will have to be per- 
Aianently quiet, at least as far as the Paris district 
is concerned. 

Letter, Aug. 12th. — Yesterday, tho being Sun- 
day, was one of the hardest days I have ever put in 
in my life, but I believe that the hard work will be 
over before very long. I worked yesterday from 
nine in the morning until eleven at night, my efforts 
being directed toward getting out a most volumin- 
ous report. Not bad for a Sunday in summer, is it? 
And I had worked until quite late on Saturday 
night, too. 

Letter, Aug. 25th. — My work has been changed, 
and I am now in the Metal and Manufacturing 
Branch, Avorking with Lieut. Chauncey McCorniick, 



GG 



of Chicago. My work is in the nature of purchas- 
ing, tho at the present time I am engaged in 
straightening out his records. When that has been 
accomplished, even more of my time will be devoted 
to i)urchasing. 

The change is most welcome and work is much 
more interesting. It is not nearly as hard or as 
tiresome as it was in the Delivery Division, and I 
am sincerely happy that the Colonel has seen fit to 
make this change (Avhich I requested). 

We have had three extremely warm days, which I 
have figured out in Fahrenheit to be about 00 to 1)3 
degrees. It was hot a-plenty, but inasmuch as it is 
the first really hot weather we have had this sum- 
mer, I don't suppose that I ought to complain. 

Letter^ Aug. 31st. — I am still living in the same 
apartment, having succeeded in finding two other 
officers who were looking for quarters. Their names 
are Behring of San Antonio, Texas, and Kelly of 
Utica, N. Y. We still have the same maid, and 
things are going along nicely, as heretofore. The 
expenses of the past month have been very heav} ^ 
due to only two of us living together, but now tliat 
is passed. 

The new job is going along nicely, all night and 
Sunday work being eliminated. I like it better also, 
as it gives me much more opportunity to speak 
French. I now find that I am faii-ly "at home" in 
the matter of speaking French, and am sure, if this 
work keeps up, that by the time I return to the 
States, I will be able to carry on a rather respect- 
able conversation in the language native to the 
Frog. The work itself is quite interesting, and I 
am now doing some purchasing of metal and hollow- 
ware. 



G7 

Lettek, Sept. 2nd.— Lient. Kelly lias been or- 
dered away from Paris, but this time I am quite 
sure that it will be rather easy to find someone to 
take his place, as I know of several officers who are 
looking- for quarters. It is, however, not pleasant 
to be obliged to change living mates so often, and I 
hope that this is the last time I will have to make 
a change for some time to come. 

I spent a very delightful KSunday visiting the 
beauties of Versailles. I was fortunate enough to 
make the trip in the company of Captain Organ 
(retired) of the French Army, who knew what he 
wanted to see, and how to go about seeing it ; so in 
spite of much of the Palace being closed to visitors, 
I was able to see a great part of it, to say nothing 
of the grounds. It is wonderful, and far beyond my 
powers of description. The paintings, wood-work, 
metal-work, and all of that is the most remarkable 
that I have ever seen, or ever expect to see, for that 
matter. 

The grounds are marvelous. The many foun- 
tains and wooded walks, the lawns, flower-beds, the 
statues, all are indelibly stamped upon my memory. 
I spent a most interesting hour rowing about on the 
charming artificial lake. It is the first time that 
I have had a chance to row in France. 

We had lunch in a little restaurant under the 
trees by the shore of the lake. That, in itself, was 
quite a treat. 

A most enjoyable day, and we were favored by 
Aveather not too warm, tho a bit showery in the 
early part. It cleared up and became a most per- 
fect afternoon. 

Letter, Sept. 7th. — One year ago to-day I left 
the United States, and all that it means. T have 



GS 



started the celebration by putting another service 
chevron on my left sleeve. 

I saw in the paper the other day that 2nd Lieut. 
Sydney Cole has been killed in action. He was one 
of my bunkies at Plattsburgh, and took over my 
platoon in the 10th Infantry when I left it to go to 
the 42n(l Division. I saw him in Paris about a 
month ago, and now I read that he has been killed. 
Too bad ! The offlcers of my old company in the 
IGStli Infantry have all either been killed or wound- 
ed, some of the latter twice. Many, many officers 
that I knew have gone the way from which there is 
no returning, and all of them died with their boots 
on, giving Fritzie hell all the while. 

I am dying for a piece of good American choco- 
late! There is absolutely none to be had here, as all 
of the chocolate that the Army is buying for the 
Sales Commissaries is being sent to the front Avhere, 
as a matter of fact, it is needed more. None of us 
here kick about this, but we do miss an occasional 
bite of something sweet. 

Letter^ Sept. 17th. — I made a two days' trip to 
the City of Rennes the end of last week, in connec- 
tion with the inspection and delivery of some of our 
l)urchases. I found it a most attractive city, the 
following amusing incident reflecting upon the de- 
caying age of France: I was informed by one of 
the natives that the city was quite modern, having 
been rebuilt since the fire which burned down most 
of the city some years ago. I naturally inquired 
how long ago, and was told, "Oh, about 150 years !" 
In otliei- words, anything which is not cracked rfnd 
moldy is new. 

I left Paris on Friday morning last and reached 
the city again near midnight on Saturday. A pleas- 
ant little break in the routine of business it was, too. 



69 

The apartment is goino alono fine. Lient. Kelly 
has left, hnt his place was quickly filled by 2n(l 
Lieut. E. A. Boudrean, from Maine, so we are again 
filled np. 

Letter, Sept. 30th.— I've been away again for 
five days, and came back on Friday, and started my 
return to Paris with the most famous cold in his- 
tory. I still have it, and if it wasn't that I put my- 
self to bed at four o'clock Saturday afternoon, I 
am sure that I would now be suffering from a case 
of grippe. 

The trip itself was a corker, I had to get up at all 
hours to catch trains and had to wait interminably 
for connections. I went to Nonancourt (Eure), 
Connerre (Sarthe), Fecamp, Rouen and Le Havre 
( Seine Inf erieure ) . 

It was a tough trip, with many discomforts, and 
I can best give you an idea of it by describing my 
experiences at Beaute-Beuzeville, where I had to 
make connections between Fecamp and Le Havre. 

Have you ever been in this town? Well, for a 
word of description of this wonderfully thriving 
metropolis, which is probably eight or nine hundred 
years old — and looks it. Besides the crumbling 
"gare,'' with its necessary evil, the "chef," there 
seems to be the usual proportion of one cafe to 
every six inhabitants, including those who have gone 
away to the war. It is now almost six o'clock- 
more familiarly knowTi as "aperatif moins cinq" — 
and at this moment all eight cafes are crowded. 

I strolled into the buffet of the Gare for a but- 
terless sandwich and a sugarless coffee on a table- 
clothless table. xVn undersized Frenchman, in a 
red braided cap, stuck his head in the door, and in 
stentorian, but un-understandable French, veiled 



'0 



something that sounded to me like a cross between 
"Forty-second Street, Grand Central Station, 
change here for Queensboro Subway," and "Lake 
Shore Limited will arrive on Track 46." I thought 
I had better investigate. I went to the Bulletin 
Board and saw that this uproar meant that the 
train was only one hour and fifteen minutes late. 
The column devoted to the cause bore one word 
"Rouen." I then knew there must be some mys- 
tery somewhere, and I looked up several code books 
for a solution of the puzzle. If a city of 70,000 
people is a reason for delaying a train one hour and 
a quarter, why in thunder didn't they run around 
it, or do something equally sensible? 

I waited and the train finally came along one 
hour and three-quarters late. It just had to con- 
tinue losing time in order to maintain its batting- 
average, and so, finally, and thoroly disgusted, I 
took my leave of Beaute-Beuzeville. 

Speaking of leaving, it is no easy or simple mat- 
ter to start a train in France. In America, some 
one shouts "All aboard," waves his arm once, and 
the train starts. Not so here. In the first place, 
that direct American method does not furnish jobs 
for enough people, and there is not sufficient talk- 
ing to make it effective. 

Let us take a look at the way it is done here. 
The Chef de Gare, looks at his watch and calls his: 
two, three or four Sous-Chefs into executive session, 
and they agree that they might just as well start the 
train as hold it any longer. The Chef then shouts, 
"en voiture," and the sous-chefs gO' the entire 
length of the train closing the doors to the cells. 
The Chef toots his whistle, the exalted rubber-col- 
lared functionar-y, who corresponds to our conduc- 
tor, blows a conch horn, the engineer opens the 
steam whistle and then — but not until then — loosens" 



the brakes. The Chef and the engineer wig wag 
cryptic greetings, wishing to be remembered to 
each other's wives no doubt, the train backs up a 
few meters, and then the little watch charm starts 
forward, only to stop at another station before it 
has had a chance to reach its maximum speed of 
thirty kilometers per day. To all of this, at night, 
you must add about two minutes of frantic and de- 
lirious lantern-waving. 

On this little trip tliat I liave just made, I had an 
astounding experience. I met and talked to two 
Chefs de Gare, who seemed to know sometliing, and 
were quite willing to impart their knowledge. I 
asked one what time a particular train left, and he 
actually knew without consulting his time-tables, 
and of the other I inquired if a certain train had a 
first-class coach. He almost kissed me; quite 
startled, I demanded an explanation, and was told 
that it did and that he had not sold a first-class 
ticket for that train since the war began. Some 
day I am going to return to those two towns and 
capture these Chefs. They are coming to Paris 
with me, where I will put them on exhibition among 
the other war curiosities in the Hotel des In- 
valides. 

A general idea of conditions of travel is best ex- 
pressed b}' the following tabulation of the first three 
days of my trip : 

Work 3 :40 

Sleep 12 :20 

Travelling 15 :00 

Waiting for trains 41 :00 



Total 72:00 Hours. 



While there seems to be no time allowed for eating, 
I did not starve. The time for eating is inchided in 
the first three items. 

And snch is travelling in France during the war. 

Letteje_, Oct. 4th. — I had the extreme pleasure of 
cabling yesterday that I had been promoted to the 
grade of First Lieutenant. I was recommended 
on May 5th for a captaincy, and it took almost five 
months for all the necessary endorsements and for- 
malities to be gone thru before the answer finally 
reached me, making me a First Lieutenant. 

I sent mother my photo yesterday, properly auto- 
graphed and marked for identification. B^^ it you 
can well see that the "Battle of Paris" is agreeing 
with me, also Marie's cooking. I have surely gained 
some weight, altho I really do not know liow much. 
It is too much mathematics to get on a Frog scale, 
find out the number of kilos, and then change them 
to i)ounds. But I am somewhat stouter. 

Letter, Oct. 17th. — The enclosed label is to be 
used on the Christmas package which you will 
please send me. Notice the demand ! The contents 
are to be : Three of the heaviest pounds of the sweet- 
est milk chocolate that you can find. That is the 
one thing that I miss most in this sugarless coun- 
try. All chocolate is scarce over here, and good 
chocolate is a rarity. The Frog variety of this 
jjarticular commodity is far from sweet, very ex- 
pensive and extremely hard to find. 

We moved Tuesday to 21 Rue Descamps. We had 
to quit the Ave. MacMahon apartment, as the lady 
from whom we rented it on a month-to-month lease, 
wanted it back. The new place, from the present 
outlook, will suit us just as well as the old, tho it 
is not quite as handy to reach. It is twice the dis- 



73 

taiice from the office, but in as good a quarter of 
the city, and I am sure that we will enjoy it there 
as well as we did the old place. 

We now have two chaps from the American Em- 
bassy living with ns. Both hail from Providence, 
R. I., and their names are Trainor and Cirino. We 
changed maids, keeping the one that was there be- 
fore ns, when six of the Embassy staff, inchuling 
Trainor and Cirino, had the apartment. I have a 
nice large room all to myself, right next to the bath- 
room, and I tind the bed equally as comfortable as 
the one I had to give up. 

The display of guns and other war trophies in 
Paris to boost the French Loan is most interesting 
and attracting great crowds. It seems as tho Fritz 
is shy some ordnance, to judge by the thousand or 
so pieces on display. Life is brightening up remark- 
ably in Paris. Many of the lights — -which before 
the war earned for Paris the sobriquet of "La Ville 
Lumiere" — are now lit at night in place of the sul- 
len blue lamps of the air raid days. The fountains 
in the Place de la Concorde were flowing on Satur- 
day for the first time since they were turned off at 
the beginning of the war. 

The amount of traffic everywhere in Paris has 
visibly increased, altho the strings of vehicles of the 
pre-war days that filled the Champs Elysees and the 
Avenue du Bois are still memories and dreams. 
There seems to be more push and momentum 
everywhere, and I am now almost willing to believe 
that all will be over before many more months pass. 
The feeling seems to be in the air! 

The new apartment is fine! The maid that we 
took in place of Marie proved a most taking crook 
— not cook — but w^as unscientific in her helpings. 
She did not limit herself to overcharging for the 
purchases she made, but stole part of what she 



74 



actually bought, and of course was discovered. We 
discharged her bright and early Sunday morning, 
I prepared lunch with the aid of a can-opener and 
Washington Coffee; we went out for dinner, and 
early Monday morning, in time to get our break- 
fasts, Marie was back in the kitchen, and now all 
is serene once more. 

Lieut. Townsend was ordered away from Paris, 
so now we are only five. I think I will stage a show 
of my own, entitled "They Come and Go!" but I 
am afraid it will require too large a cast. 

Letter^ Rennes, Oct. 23rd. — Here I am back in 
Rennes again. I left Paris at 7.30 this morning and 
arrived here on time (for a wonder) at 3 P. M., 
after an uneventful trip, except for a scrap with 
the maitre d'hotel on the diner, which wound up 
by his getting only one sou for a tip ! 

Letter, Oct. 27th. — I got back from Rennes on 
Thursday evening at eight fifteen, after a nice quiet 
little trip. 

Letter, Nov. 2nd. — On October 31st we had a 
little party of a real bohemian nature. Joe Trainor 
proposed a little celebration for Hallowe'en, so we 
invited some American girls up to the apartment, 
two of them coming for supper. Two others came 
in after supper, and another civilian from the Em- 
bassy. We spent a very pleasant evening, includ- 
ing a bite of lunch at about eleven thirty. 

There is quite a difference between living in Paris 
and in New York, where a party of this nature 
would be frowned upon severely by all the matrons 
in the city. It was enjoyable, and aftei* taking home 
one of the girls, who comes from Chicago, 111., V. S- 



ID 



A., Roumania and Paris, I was under the covers at 
1 A. M. 

Nov. llTII AND 12tII. 



Armistice Hostilities. 

I arose on Monday morning, November 11th, full 
of hopeful expectancy ; dressed and went to the of- 
fice in much the same frame of mind. Rumors were 
rampant, and finally at about 9.30, a Frenchman 
told me that the armistice had been signed. He 
seemed so honestly happy and sincere that I could 
not help believing- him. I told Lieut. McCormick, 
and he telephoned to one of his friends at the Min- 
istere de L'Armement. The good news was con- 
firmed and immediately work stopped for the day. 

Then started a two days' orgy of whole-hearted, 
spontaneous and unconstrained joy. Whole-heart- 
ed, yes — for don't you think that the culmination 
of four years of unlit streets, restrictions on this 
and that, casualty lists, tales of murderous and wan- 
ton destruction, could only find expression in whole- 
hearted joy? Spontaneous, too, for was there any 
previous occasion or time to prepare for the won- 
derful deliverance from the world's greatest peril? 
Unconstrained, surely, you would have to be devoid 
of all yonr senses not to feel that — unconstrained 
because of its whole-heartedness and spontaneity. 

To relate all that happened is an impossibility, 
if only for the fact that the crowds were so dense 
that one could not get thru them. My own experi- 
ences are perhaps quite typical and will no doubt 
give an excellent idea of what happened elsewhere. 

After lunch at home, at which a little wine was 
added by way of celebration, I went downtown in 



76 

a limousine with Lieut, Boudiean and a friend of 
his, a French lieutenant. We headed for the Boule- 
vards, displaying from the windows of the car a 
sign reading "Abri, 25 places, defense de fumer" 
(Shelter against air raids, 25 places, smoking for- 
bidden). It provoked laughter and humorous re- 
marks from all sides, particularly from the French 
policemen. 

At 2.30 I left them, called for a friend of mine, 
and then went towards the hub of the fun — the 
Place de I'Opera. Crowds! Never have I seen 
anything like it! All the election night and New 
Year's Eve jams looked like country town proces- 
sions — completely dwarfed in the comparison. It 
took half an hour to get across the Place de L'0])era 
from the Cafe de la Paix to the other side. Don't 
forget that it was all good-natured — no ill-will or 
anger being shown anywhere. People were pushed, 
shoved and jammed — toes tramped upon, hats torn 
off — but everyone laughed, the victims included. 

We went along the Boulevards as far as the Cafe 
de Madrid, which is just beyond Hue Drouot. The 
crowd was everywhere and getting worse each sec- 
ond. We went into the Cafe to drink a toast to the 
victory and found the crowd there as dense as out- 
side and even more boisterous. Champagne was 
flowing like water back home, ever-ybody was sing- 
ing — the Marseillaise, of course, being the favorite 
— and shouting "Vive la France! Vive TAmeriquer 
Viva la Victoire!'' the glasses clicking to the words 
of the toasts. 

Who would want to eat dinner at home on a 
night like that when the whole world — except Bil- 
lions Bill and his, funeral cortege — was out making'- 
merry? So I reserved a table for dinner at the 
Madrid, and we left about Ave o'clock. After more 



77 



struggliii<>, we reached the Metro, each going home, 
to meet again at seven to go to dinner. 

I never will forget that dinner. On the way in 
two girls on the terrace of the Cafe spotted me. and 
shonting '^Vive rAmericain," proceeded to punctu- 
ate their sincerity by repeatedly kissing me on each 
cheek. With true French politeness, I returned the 
compliment. I cite this one incident to show how 
tlie kissing habit was in vogue. And remember 
that these two girls were with two healthy French 
officers. Everybody kissed everybody else, regard- 
less of flu germs. I never was kissed so often in 
one day in my whole life, but I won't burden the 
narrative with mention of all the offensive and de- 
fensive kissing that was going around. 

The maitre d'hotel was waiting to show us our 
table, by virtue of a generous tip previously given 
him. We were not hungry, but had a delightful 
dinner of frogs' legs, beefsteak and French fr-ied 
potatoes and coffee. Nearly everything else on the 
menu was scratched off ; the house was sold out ! 
Everyone talked to everyone else. The restaurant 
was wild and the service terrible, but nobody cared. 
Who wanted to eat anyhow? The city authorities 
permitted the cafes to remain open until 11 o'clock, 
tlio as a matter of fact, no attempt was made to 
close up on the moment. 

Some incidents were amusing. A one-armed Bel- 
gian officer made the rounds, kissing every officer he 
met, and he did not skip me! On one table, a 
Frenchman, American and Belgian stood shouting, 
"Vive la Victoire!" their arms locked about each 
other's shoulders. Men and women changed hats. 
English, French, Belgians and Americans, changed 
parts of uniforms and headgear, with ludicrous re- 
sults singing their national anthems and toasting 



each other wildly. At eleven we left. Someone 
stole my overseas cap, bnt I borrowed a hat from a 
hospital corps sergeant and got home in that. But 
why worry — wasn't it worth it? 

The next day was jnst as bad. I Aveut to the office 
in the morning, but there was absolutely- no work. 
At noon, I went downtown to a little tea room I 
know on Rue de TEchelle, with the same friend, and 
after lunch we made another tour of the Boulevards 
as far as the Porte St. Denis. We stood watching: 
the crowd until four o'clock, and then walked thru 
Rue St. Denis to the Place de FHotel de Ville, where 
we listened to a concert by the band of the Garde 
Municipale. Then to the home of some friends, to 
sample some of their private stock, which was re- 
served only for very special occasions. I went home 
for supper, and afterwards to the home of some 
other friends for further celebration, finally getting 
heme at midnight, dead tired after two days of 
boisterous, nerve-racking celebration, 

I can't possibly describe all of the laughable and 
original things I saw. Countless effigies of the now 
crownless Kaiser and his silly son were held aloft 
by delirious poilus ; German helmets, ''abri" signs, 
skeletons representing the Clown Quince's own pri- 
vate regiment; these are but samples of what the 
crowd used to show their feelings. They took the 
guns from the Place de la Concorde and paraded 
thru the streets with them, the police not attempt- 
ing to interfere, in fact, not wanting to. The street 
lamps were lit, lights brightened the cafe terraces^ 
that had been dark but a few days before, festoons 
of colored lights were draped on the walls of build- 
ings, and in some cases across the street. Above 
all were the masses of flags and bunting — the bright 
colors of the Allies and the United States seeming' 
to proclaim the approaching dawn of Peace.. 



79 



The statues of Brest, Rouen, Lille and Strasbourg 
in the Place de la Concorde were beautifully deco- 
rated, particularly that of Strasbourg. The crowd 
stood around it as tho it were a living thing, and 
men at various times harangued the crowd on the 
subject of the now returned Lost Provinces. 

The Eiffel Tower showed bright lights at its top. 
The enormous anti-aircraft searchlights M'aved an 
enthusiastic greeting across the darkened heavens. 
From West to East and from North to South these 
bright eyes seemed to tell me that the storm had 
isassed — never more to return. 

It is over — this celebration ! And I am happy it 
was my excellent good luck to have been able to see 
it all, tO' throw myself carefree into the business of 
celebrating the approach of world-wide peace and 
happiness. 

Letter^ Nov. 22nd. — The Alsace-Lorraine Cele- 
bration of last Sunday was a much tamer at¥air 
than that on November 11th. I saw the parade 
from the windows of the Ely see Palace Hotel, and 
after the parade went to Fouquet's and celebrated 
in honor of the return of the Lost Provinces. 

The streets of Paris are now quite well illumi- 
nated at night, and it is a pleasure to be abroad 
after dark ! 

Father's Day Letter^ Nov. 24th. 
Dear Dad : 

At last the daddies have come into their own, 
and a special day has been set aside for the men of 
the A. E. F. to write to tliem — for once neglecting 
the Mothers! 

We are informed that we can tell what we have 
seen, giving the names of places, dates, organiza- 



so 



tions, etc., but in the famous Battle of Paris or the 
storming of Cognac Hill, in both of which I have 
actively participated, perhaps the less said the bet- 
ter. 

But you know that it is not my fault that I am 
on S. 6. S. duty in the Q. M. C. The Q;. M. C. was 
not my choice. I have done my bit as I had been 
told to do, and hope that by so doing, I have caused 
you to feel a measure of pride; enough, at least, to 
enable you to hold your head high along with the 
rest of the daddies, whose boys are over here. 

And let me tell 3'ou, Dad, that I don't know a 
single Yank here who does not want to get back to 
his folks! Here in Paris we consider we have ''the 
cream of the A. E. F.," and still we yearn, all of 
us, for our own firesides, the homes where we can 
find our parents, relatives and friends, where we 
can talk and be sure to be understood, where things 
seem to us to be natural and as God intended they 
should be. 

And those very firesides would not be worth re- 
turning to if it were not for the daddies — the ones 
who have worked long and 'hard to give their sons 
an education and the other requisites that make the 
boys more fit for a larger place under the sun ! 

So don't think. Dad, that because I have ad- 
dressed my envelopes to mother, that you have ever 
been forgotten. I am coming back some day and 
then for a grand reunion ! I am longing for it now I 

Letter^ Dec. 4th. — I had a good view of His 
Majesty, King George V, last Thursday, and hope 
to have the same opportunity to-morrow of seeing^ 
the King of the Belgians. 

Lieut. Behring, who is living in the apartment 
Avith us, was taken to the hospital at Neuilly about 
ten days ago with an attack of influenza, A\'hicb 



81 



quickly developed into pneumouia, but he is now 
Avell on the road to recovery. He was lucky that 
he only had a comparatively slight touch of pneu- 
monia, and that he had the proper medical atten- 
tion in good time. 

Letter^ Dec. 9th. — I saw the arrival of King Al- 
bert on Thursday last, from a well elevated posi- 
tion on the Avenue du Bois. It was interesting, 
but almost everyone in Paris feels that the recep- 
tions accorded to the Kings of England and Bel- 
gium in no way will comi)are with that which will 
be extended to President Wilson next Saturday. It 
is reported that he will arrive at Porte Dauphine 
at ten in the morning, whereas the two monarchs 
arrived at two thirty in the afternoon. 

Lieut. Boudreau, who is the Railroad Transpor- 
tation Officer at Headquarters in Paris, has been 
selected to accompany the Presidential trains from 
Brest to Paris, and make arrangements for their 
loading and unloading. He is lucky, for that is 
quite an honor to be bestowed upon a shavetail. 

I went to threatre twice last week. I saw "La 
Verite toute Nue," at the Theatre du Gymnase, and 
"Phi-Phi" at La Bouffe-Parisienne, both of which 
were excellent. As a matter of fact I have been to 
quite a number of shows in the past two or three 
months, but frequently have forgotten to mention 
it. 

Letter^ Dec. 15th. — The President arrived in 
Paris yesterday morning. I had a good view of the 
Foiemost American from the top of a ladder care- 
fully planted on the Avenue du Bois. I was up 
bright and early in order to get a good place, and 
after an hour's wait, the Presidential Salute of 
twentv-one guns announced his arrival at 10 



82 



o'clock. He came along with M. Poincare, both of 
them wearing broad smiles, and seemed to be genu- 
inely pleased with the hearty and noisy reception 
accorded by the French people. The noise far over- 
shadowed that upon the arrival of either King 
George or King Albert, and there is no doubting 
now the sincerity of the French towards President 
Wilson. The people went wibl with enthusiasm, 
and cheered and cheered until they were quite 
hoarse. Wilson looked like a happy schoolboy. 
Naturally, I was glad to see this reception, and it 
seemed that all of Paris was also, for the people 
were standing twenty deep in order to get a glimpse 
of our President. 

Letter^ Dec. 20th. — The King of Italy arrived 
to-day, but the weather Avas so bad that I did not 
see the procession. Fui-thermore, I am rather tired 
of seeing Kings and such. 

Letter,, Deic. 23rd. — I am coming home! I ex- 
pect to leave Paris Friday evening, Dec. 27. I am 
ordered to St. Nazaire, and counting the delay that 
I know will occur there, I ought to see the Statue 
of Liberty about the first of February next ! I re- 
ceived my orders on the 20th, but am held here for 
a few days to finish up some work that I was en- 
gaged in at the time. My orders read that I am re- 
turning to be mustered out. 

I went to the Opera on Saturday evening and 
saw "Castor and Pollux," which I cannot say that 
I enjoyed, because the music was too heavy and I 
did not understand much of it. The Opera House 
itself is magnificent — so much of it has been v/rit- 
ten by so many people that it is quite needless for 
me to add anvthina'. 



83 



Letter^ Dec. 27th. — Je pars pour rAmeriqiie ee 
soil' meme {\ 201i.05 1 In other words, I am ^'hitting 
tiie long trail" this evening at 8.05. My baggage is 
already at the depot, my ticket is bought, I have 
cheeked out with the M. P.'s, I have nn* resen'ation 
for the journey, have taken a bath, shaved, cleaned 
my teeth, and done everything else that is necessary 
for a long trip. Reports are conflicting as to what 
sort of luck I shall have in the matter of getting on 
board of the steamer, some saying that I will only 
be at the Base for a day or two, and others claiming 
that it will be two or three weeks before I will be 
able to take steamer. P^'rankly, I have no more 
idea, as to when I will actually sail than you have, 
but presume that I will have a ten days' delay at 
least at the seaboard. 

It was here that I stopped writting letters home. 

I arrived at St. Nazaire on Dec. 28th, after a 
miserable all-night ride in a smelly second-class 
coach. I was assigned quarters within hailing dis- 
tance of the barracks in which I spent my first night 
on French soil in September, 1917. There was 
nothing to do at camp but eat, sleep and play cards 
(if so inclined) for there was plenty of company. 
The condition of the camp was poor, there being 
plenty of mud, and the mess was nothing to brag 
about. 

On January 17th, 1919, I asked to be assigned to 
a casual company and was attached to the 133rd 
Company, scheduled to leave for the steamer at 
Nantes (Loire Inferieure), the following day. To 
Capt. H. F. Grove, Inf., of Larned, Kans., I owe my 
thanks for his support of my request, for it was 
to his company that I was assigned. 

We left on the 18th, took train for Nantes, and 
that afternoon were sent to Pont Eousseau (Loire 



S4 



Inferieiire), near that city, as the steamer was not 
ready to take us. We boarded the Steamer ''Sama- 
rinda," on January 20th at 2 P. M., and sailed an 
hour afterwards. On board was our company and 
one other and some casual officersi, a total of 19 
officers and 259 men. As Capt. Grove was the senior 
Army officer on board, he became Troop Com- 
mander, leaving' me in command of the lo3rd Com- 
pany. 

We took the extreme southern course, passing' 
just north of the Azores and Bermudas, and had a 
very pleasant, warm and comfortable voyage. The 
'^Samarinda" is a 9,000-top ship, and there was 
plenty of room for everybody, with very few or no 
restricted areas. We entered New York Harbor 
shortly after sunrise on February 3rd, 1919. 

I had the surprise of my life upon seeing my 
Father, Mother, sister and brother-in-law on top of 
the pilot house of the police boat "Patrol," which 
came alongside the ship off Quarantine. Seeing 
them all so well, made a pleasant finish to my serv- 
ice in the American Expeditionary Forces. 

From the foregoing, it is quite easy to judge 
that I was spared many of the hardships that fell 
to the lot of my fellow Americans in France. I 
realize this, and how it all hajjpened is best summed 
up in a letter written by an old friend from Train- 
ing Camp, 2nd Lieut. Raymond L. Hill, of the 
107th Supply Train on January 24th, 1919, four 
days after I had left for home. It is written to my 
brother from "Across the Rhine." Lieut. Hill 
writes : 

"I had been wondering whether your brother had 
been ordered home, and am not surprised to hear 
that he has been, as he seems to play in luck all the 
time.'^ 



I TRRflRY OF CONGRESS 

020 934 481 b ^ 



